


Greener Pastures

by HigherMagic



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Accountant Rick Grimes, Accounting, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Office, Blow Jobs, Bottom Daryl Dixon, Bottom Rick Grimes, Condoms, Creampie, Deaf Character, Deaf Rick Grimes, First Dates, First Time, Living Together, M/M, Office Sex, Rickyl Writers' Group, Shower Sex, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes, Switching, Top Daryl Dixon, Top Rick Grimes, Unsafe Sex, versatile rickyl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2018-10-16 15:25:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 101,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10574103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic
Summary: Daryl hates his job, which not only includes dealing with furious merchants arguing with him over money, but demands he deal with the most irritating, pretentious jerk in the world: Rick Grimes, CFO. Even though he's only ever spoken to the man via email, Daryl knows he hates him. Until Rick Grimes shows up at their offices one day asking for him, specifically.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooooooooooooooo I kinda just wanted to complain about my job and then this happened? The last time I said something would be two parts it ended up being Long Weekend which was..........not two parts. So I don't know. But yeah. This is a thing now.
> 
> Features disgruntled!call centre!Daryl and deaf!CFO!Rick. SMUT WILL COME (phrasing) IN TIME.

Daryl Dixon hated his job.

Of course, that was a pretty common complaint for most people, so he didn't think that in and of itself made him special. And it wasn't the _job_ exactly that he didn't like – most of the time it was that for a good portion of the day, he was the only one doing it worth a damn.

Technically, his job was to answer the phones when they rang, help merchants when they were having terminal issues (and open up a ticket when it was something he couldn't handle so that someone else would), and build the accounts when they were sent to him from underwriting. And that part was simple enough. They'd gotten past the busy season where everyone was opening up their businesses and things were starting to slow down, and the promise of new interviews and fresh meat to fill the laughably small Support department was going a long way to soothe his nerves.

And he loved the people he worked with. His direct supervisor, Carol, was hilarious and liked to come by Daryl's desk and swap stories about her dog and Daryl's neighbor's cat that he would look after when he'd housesit for them. His VP had just gotten the new Zelda game and even though Daryl had yet to start playing it himself, he liked talking about the older games and swapping tips and tricks for when he did start playing (plus things he had already looked up and his friend Glenn had told him about when they were bored).

The others in the cubicles had all been there more than a year, so they were seasoned except for two that had come on a couple months before. Next to him was Tara, who meant well but had this problem of asking the same question over and over again until Daryl explained it to her _just right_ , and then there was Philip who seemed content to just sit on his ass all day and do nothing. But he was a _special hire_ which meant he was basically untouchable.

Overall, Daryl wasn't exactly unhappy with the _job_ , or the _people_. It paid a damn sight better than any job he'd had before, was consistent hours in the same place, and guaranteed him weekend, paid vacation, and shit like health benefits and dental. All things Daryl had had to go without on his previous forays into the job market.

Still, he was pissed off today. A merchant had been blowing up his voicemail all night, demanding to know why he wasn't at his desk _24/7_ – Daryl decided to delete all of his messages and just outright refuse him. Guy needed a full credit card number, wasn't even listed on the account as someone they could talk to, let alone give out sensitive information to. So he could go fuck himself.

He opened up his email and groaned. _This_ was the reason he hated his job.

Rick. Fucking. Grimes.

Daryl had never actually spoken to the man over the phone – their correspondence had been entirely by email. Daryl had been grandfathered in from his previous deskmate when she'd quit and when Rick had asked if he could speak directly with Daryl for anything he needed, Daryl had agreed – because he'd been new back then and stupid and hadn't learned to _never agree to being 'The Guy' for a merchant._

It wasn't that Rick was an unpleasant or disrespectful person to talk to – it was just that he was a _Very Important Client_ – Daryl's boss had been very sure to mention that to him – and Daryl better not do anything to piss him off. Rick was the CFO for one of their management companies which basically meant he controlled the finances of about 500 of their accounts. Which amounted to a lot of money for them, and since he was the guy they related with, he was the guy they didn't want to piss off.

Which was...whatever. Except Daryl didn't really give a fuck if he pissed Rick off. He had sent so many emails to him that Rick had his own damn folder apart from the normal 'Merchant' ones in his email and that folder was by far the largest in terms of saved emails. Rick refused to call Daryl and would never pick up when Daryl called him even though it would make things _a thousand times easier_ if he did.

And maybe he was too busy, which was fine, but he seemed perfectly capable of writing out whole fucking essays in his email listing every little thing that Daryl might possibly be able to fix (and if he couldn't fix it, he better figure out how, because as far as Daryl knew, Rick didn't respond to emails from anyone else except him).

Wincing, he opened up his email, braced for what Rick might have written;

_Mister Dixon,_

Asshole never even deigned to call him Daryl. Fuck, Daryl had talked to him probably more than any person in the rest of his life combined. He'd even _asked_ Rick to call him Daryl. He never did. Pretentious asshole.

_I hope this email finds you well._

God, what a douche.

_Over the course of the weekend I began to notice something strange in our accounts. It appears that some of the American Express charges have not been depositing for Creekside, Eagle Ridge and ATL Country Club. I have attached the statements as well as our bank records. Please write back at your earliest convenience to shed some light on the matter._

Daryl thought he might scream. "That fucking enrollment happened _two months ago_ ," he hissed, sitting back in his chair and running his hands through his hair. Behind him, Tara gave a sympathetic hum.

"Amex?" she hazarded.

Daryl nodded, blowing out a breath. He closed his eyes and shook his head as though to clear it. He was already getting a Goddamn headache, _fuck_. "Probably not even all his accounts, too. _Fuck_." Another thing that Daryl had quickly come to realize from his time at this job: a lot of accountants were plain fucking useless. "He can just compare it to the batches…. Fucking _shit_."

A head popped up over the wall of his cubicle and Daryl looked up to glare at Glenn, who was already staring at him with wide eyes, his headset poised and ready on his face. It was two minutes to nine, when the phones would switch over from After Hours and start ringing for them.

"Gotta be Rick, if you're already starting on the F-bombs," he said with a lopsided grin. Daryl narrowed his eyes and resisted the urge to throw a pen at him. "He caught onto the Amex craze?"

Daryl nodded, letting out a miserable huff, before he heaved a sigh and straightened and began to compose his email. He didn't even need to look at the statements – he knew exactly what Rick was talking about. They'd been getting calls about it since February, when it happened.

 _Rick_ , he began, because he was an asshole like that and liked to think Rick bristled a little whenever Daryl addressed him so informally, _On February 1 st, we entered into an agreement with American Express that allowed us to deposit on their behalf, so all your card types in your batches will be received in one sum. This automatic enrollment was done for every eligible account. Please let me know if you have any questions._

"Please don't have any questions," Daryl muttered, hitting send after he attached his signature. Glenn laughed and sat back down as his phone rang and he answered it. Daryl sighed, rolling his eyes when he saw that the queue light was already blinking, which meant everyone else was disabling their phone so they wouldn't answer.

He put on his headset and answered the first call. Stopped batch – easy enough. He emailed the details to Glenn. The next one was one of his open tickets calling him back for a terminal install. He sat back and brought up the account, settling in for a long call because of course the only people who installed terminals for merchants were the people who didn't even know which website to go to or how to restart a computer. Daryl kept his eyes on his incoming mailbox, tensed for a rant or another giant essay from Rick. None came for a good hour, then two…

This was uncharacteristic of Rick. He normally replied within half an hour, even less if he was at his desk. Daryl had gotten emails from his phone before so he knew Rick checked his mail constantly.

A small part of him started to worry as the hours ticked on towards lunch. Of course, he didn't know the man well enough to say that he was _really_ worried, but it was just so strange of him not to respond. He didn't want anything to have _happened_ to him – Rick was like the annoying sunlight that streaked through his window first thing in the morning. Yeah, it was annoying, but Daryl always felt its absence on a cloudy day.

Lunch rolled around and he disabled his phone, throwing down the headset with a sigh. Glenn stood too and offered him a smile as they walked towards the kitchens, only to be stopped when Daryl heard his name being called.

"Daryl!" He turned, seeing Dale rushing towards him. The man's eyes were wide and his cheek were red from running. He was senior management. Daryl had only spoken to him maybe twice in his entire time at the office. "Daryl, good. You weren't about to leave, were you?"

Daryl blinked at Dale, frowning. "Nah. Why?"

"I just received a phone call from Rick Grimes' assistant," Dale said. "He's on his way here to visit the offices and talk business with the boss."

Daryl's eyes widened. Rick was…coming _here_? "Okay?"

"Well, Negan wants you there," Dale said, finally catching his breath. "He knows that Rick only speaks with you so he wants you in the meeting. It's in twenty minutes."

"Jesus fuck," Glenn whispered, his face pale. Negan was…an asshole, to put it plainly. If Daryl was confident enough in psychology jargon he'd probably call him a psychopath, or definitely a megalomaniac. He was one of the reasons Daryl hated this place so much – he'd come in and fuck everything up on a whim. Most of the people were so scared of him that they couldn't even get any work done when they heard his voice.

Daryl just straight up hated the guy, with his smarmy smile and the way he kept purring over his car. _Lucille_. What kind of monster names a _Hummer 'Lucille'_? Negan was one of those people who bragged about how he'd make mincemeat out of anything his truck hit on the road. He was the kind of man who, if someone told Daryl he'd killed a guy just for the sport of it, Daryl would have no trouble believing him.

Daryl knew Glenn looked so anxious because of the thought of being in a meeting room with Negan. Daryl was not. No, he was far more uncomfortable at the thought of being in a room with _Rick Grimes_.

"Twenty minutes, huh?" Daryl asked when Dale didn't say anything. "Cool. I'll eat real quick, then. Where we meetin'?"

"Negan's conference room," Dale replied, which was on the other side of the fucking building. Of course. Daryl probably wouldn't have time to sit down with Glenn and eat. He rolled his eyes and went into the kitchen and grabbed his sandwich from the refrigerator. He'd walk and eat, damn it. "Oh – you're ready now? Excellent. Okay. Let's go."

"Good luck," Glenn stage-whispered to him, and Daryl lifting his hand in a wave.

This was strange. Daryl bit into his sandwich and followed after Dale as the man led him onward, nervously checking over his shoulder every now and again as though to make sure Daryl was still following. As they passed through the hallways they slowly became more and more opulent, changing from the cool blue and grey of the cubicles to plush red and gold on the walls and laminate on the floor.

Rick never even talked to anyone on the phone. And now he was _here_ , and asking for Daryl specifically? Why Daryl? Daryl had no idea what kind of business deals they might be running – he had no head for bargaining and contracts. He knew machines and money. That was all he needed to know.

They rounded a corner and Daryl saw the opening to Negan's conference room. The door was ajar, letting him glance inside. He finished his sandwich in another huge bite and dusted off his hands on his pants. The dress code for this place was pretty casual but the men still had to wear slacks, which Daryl hated, and something with a collar. Dale let out a distasteful sound when Daryl wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Well, let's get this over with," Daryl muttered, and Dale nodded and let him into the room.

The room had two walls made of windows, letting in the afternoon sunlight. The middle of it was dominated by a giant table, a third wall dedicated to a large TV. Negan was sitting at the end of the table, his back to the fourth and final wall. He swung around in his chair and grinned at Daryl, gesturing for him and Dale to come in.

"So glad you boys could join us!" he crowed. Daryl ducked his head in a nod and took a seat a few chairs down on Negan's left, with his back to the window so that when Rick showed up the other side of the table was open for him to sit. "I assume Dale's told you why you're here?"

Daryl nodded. "Says Rick asked for me."

Negan's smile dimmed for a brief second before it flared back to that thousand-watt smile. Daryl hated that smile. He liked to think Rick probably did too whenever he had to talk to the guy. Or maybe Rick was just like him and smiled just as falsely. "That's right!" Negan said brightly. "And he's _very important_ , so don't fuck it up."

Daryl huffed a laugh, but before Negan could say anything the intercom buzzed and the thick accent of Negan's second, Eugene, floated through. "Sir, Mister Grimes has just entered the premises and I am having Dwight escort him and Miss Anthony up the elevators now."

"Thank you, Eugene," Negan said, taking his finger off the intercom. "Dale, be a good man and go lead them here, please?" Dale nodded rapidly and stood, hurrying him out of the conference room. Even though Daryl knew they wouldn't be gone long, he kept himself tense and ready. Negan was like a tiger with one eye slitted open. He could attack at any moment.

"Heard a lot about you, Daryl," Negan said, and Daryl cocked his head to one side because he was pretty sure that until today Negan didn't even know his name, couldn't have picked him out of a line-up. His skin prickled nervously. "Carol tells me you're her best agent. Can't be that good if you're still a cube."

"Choose to be there," Daryl replied, lifting his chin. "Don't need a fancy office or title. More cash'd be nice, though."

Negan laughed, before he tilted his head towards the door where they could hear voices approaching. "Don't fuck this up, Daryl, and I'll make it worth your while."

Daryl nodded and pushed himself to his feet as the door opened, revealing Dale, Dwight, and then Miss Anthony and the man he could only assume, through process of elimination, was Rick Grimes.

Daryl had imagined what he might look like – of course he had. But his mental images had mostly consisted of an old, balding man with a beer gut and tired eyes bent over a desk with one of those weird bookie green cap things on.

This man was…tall. His hair had a little grey around the temples but it was thick and combed away from his face, ending just shy of the collar of his shirt. He had a little bit of stubble on his face, the kind that was artful and intentional. His eyes were incredibly blue – Daryl wasn't sure eyes could even _be_ that color. He stood tall and commanded the room in a way that Daryl knew Negan would kill for. He found himself straightening up without even realizing it.

The man – Rick – smiled at him knowingly, before he turned his attention to Negan and gave him a short nod. Dale and Dwight sat on either side of Daryl, and Rick and Miss Anthony sat on the other side of the table. The woman was slender and dark-skinned, her hair a mane of dreadlocks wrapped up in a pretty purple headband. Her eyes were solemn and narrowed, as though she, too, found sitting next to Negan distasteful. Her lips were pressed together as though she was trying to hold her tongue.

"Rick, always good to see you," Negan said after a moment of silence. "You know Dwight, and Dale of course. Allow me to introduce Daryl. Daryl, Rick and his _lovely_ assistant Michonne."

Rick's eyes had been focused like lasers on Negan's face, but they flashed to Daryl as soon as Negan said his name. He offered another smile and reached his hand out to shake, which Daryl took after a moment of hesitation. His grip was strong, his palm smooth, unlike Daryl's. People who did paperwork for a living hardly developed calluses like he had.

"Thank you for having us," Michonne said when they were all back in their seats.

"Always," Negan said with another big smile. Daryl stifled a smirk behind his hand when Rick's mouth twitched downward imperceptibly. His focus was on Negan so Daryl allowed himself to look his fill. Honestly, it wasn't fair – but it made sense. All the annoying pricks were pretty. "To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?"

Rick sat up, then, and Michonne sat back so that she could watch his hands as they moved. His mouth moved with them, but no sound came out. Daryl blinked as he realized _why_ , suddenly, Rick hadn't ever called him on the phone or allowed others to call him.

He couldn't _hear_ anything on the phone.

"We've heard you were expanding into Canada and Europe," Michonne said, watching Rick's hands. "We manage courses there and want to talk about expanding our portfolio along with yours. There's a lot of promise in Europe especially."

Negan's smile had become stuck in place like a plastic model. He hummed and lifted his eyebrows, hands spread out in a gesture of welcome. "Well, of course! I'd be more than happy to talk shop about that. Europe isn't _quite_ ready yet, for you know, chip processing with us -."

"Why?" Michonne interrupted, frowning. Rick's hands were moving very quickly and Daryl wondered how she could possibly keep up. He had never learned sign language aside from how to say 'Thank you' because he believed that was something you should always be able to say to someone, but nothing like what Rick was doing even remotely equated to that. "Europe has been processing chip transactions for years."

"Well, you see, our Integration partners -."

"Are already up and running with your competitors, Negan." Rick let out an annoyed huff, frowning. Even frowning he was pretty, and wasn't that just annoying as all Hell? Still, Daryl was enjoying seeing his boss squirming. "You're behind the times and frankly I'm getting tired of waiting for you to play catch-up. I want an ETA on this _now_."

"Alright, alright!" Negan said, holding his hands up in a peaceful gesture. Rick subsided with another sharp huff, watching Negan's mouth carefully. "I'll call a meeting of tech immediately. In the meantime, why don't I let Daryl take you out to lunch? My treat."

Daryl sat up, his eyes wide as he looked at Negan, who was still grinning in Rick's direction. Then he turned his head and caught Rick's eyes. The man was looking at him carefully, like he was eyeing up a horse he might want to buy. Daryl knew what Negan was doing – he'd seen it plenty of times before. Still, if it meant not incurring the wrath of _Very Important Person Rick Grimes,_ he supposed a free lunch was pretty low on the totem pole of trials.

He offered a small smile and Rick pressed his lips together, before he nodded and pushed himself to his feet. Michonne followed suit, as did the rest of them, and Rick fixed Negan with another glare. "I want an update in two hours," he signed, and Michonne said aloud.

"Of course," Negan said with a grin. "Dale, please let Ezekiel and Gregory know that we need to have a meeting. Dwight, if you wouldn't mind escorting Mister Grimes, Dixon, and Miss Anthony out." Dwight nodded and led the way to the pristine, shining doors of the elevators at the other end of the hallway. There was a separate one for the normal staff that was significantly less appealing. Dwight led them to the door and pushed the button and the three of them stepped inside. The doors closed on Dwight's smiling face and then they were left in silence.

The elevator started to move and Daryl sucked in a breath. He was standing right next to Rick, Michonne in front of them to form a point.

"So, you're Daryl," Michonne said. Daryl cleared his throat and nodded, his face visible in the reflective walls of the elevator. "Nice to meet you. Rick sings your praises all day and night."

Daryl felt his face heat up and he resisted the urge to look at the other man. He was sure Michonne was using the lack of reflection where she was standing to her advantage. It wasn't like Rick could hear her, anyway – the man was standing perfectly still, fingers of one hand loosely clasping his other wrist, the picture of business professional.

God, he could be on a Goddamn _magazine_.

"Really?" he asked, just as the elevator doors opened, and Michonne turned and sent a wink over her shoulder, grinning at him. They all walked out of the elevator and Eugene greeted them at the front desk. He thrust a credit card into Daryl's hand.

"With Negan's compliments," he said.

Daryl nodded and led the way out of the building. The sun was shining and the air was pleasantly warm, a light breeze stirring up his hair and teasing at a few loose strands on Rick's head. There was a car waiting for them and Daryl walked towards it. It was a car long enough to have two doors leading to the back, and seats facing forward and backwards. Negan's driver was already in the car and Daryl was sure he had already been given directions on where to go. Probably somewhere fancy.

They settled into the car and it began to move. Rick and Michonne were at the back of the car, facing forward in the classic way, which left Daryl sitting with his back to the divider. There was a cooler on the left side of the car and a shelf with glasses underneath it.

After a moment Michonne smirked, slouching in her place and crossing one leg over the other. Daryl regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "You're both the strong silent type," she said with a nod in Rick's direction. Rick was watching her, so he could read her lips, and he smiled. "Makes the conversation boring."

Rick's fingers twitched against his thigh and his grin was mischievous, but before he could sign anything Daryl spoke up; "I'm sorry about – about how Negan's actin'," he said. Michonne looked at him, which drew Rick's attention. Daryl hesitated, not knowing quite what to say under that focused gaze. He ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck. "He's a control freak. You don't gotta waste your time with me."

"Not much else to do," Michonne said. Her eyes flashed to Rick's moving hands. "Besides, _he_ didn't ask for you, _we_ did. Because Rick trusts that you know your shit from the ground up and that's where the movement is."

Daryl blinked as the man's hands went still, and raised his eyes to see his smile. He smiled back, unable to help himself.

"Plus, you're -." Rick's hand shot out and he grabbed Michonne's wrist, shaking his head rapidly. His cheeks went pink and Michonne pressed her lips together, cheeks bulging with a smile, before she shook her head. "You're the only one he talks to, anyway. He hates dealing with Negan. Honestly we'd rather let this deal die than have him try and weasel his way into Canada and Europe with us."

Daryl frowned. "Why are you telling me this?"

Rick made a sheepish noise, scratching at the stubble on his chin, before he began to slowly sign; "Well, this is both an ultimatum for Negan, and an offer for you. We'd – well, he's saying _I,_ but I find that awkward, like I'm speaking for him. We'd like you to come work for us."

Daryl's eyes widened and his lips parted in a surprised gasp. Rick's eyes flashed to his mouth, ready to read whatever he was saying, but nothing came out. Daryl shut his mouth and swallowed and Rick's gaze moved back up to meet his. The friendly, slightly sheepish air was gone. This was the same command that Daryl had first seen when he'd first laid eyes on Rick – his presence took up the space in the car, could probably fill up the whole of the company building if he let it.

"You don't have to answer right now," Michonne said, reciting what Rick signed. "Just promise me you'll think about it."

The car rolled to a stop and Daryl let out a weak breath. He licked his lips and nodded once, slowly. "Okay," he said, and watched as Rick's eyes dropped and his face lit up in a smile. "Okay. I'll think about it."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I removed mentions of Beth and Maggie from the first chapter because it'll make more sense in the later chapters if they don't work for Negan.
> 
> Posting updates are tentatively set for Saturday with interim postings when I get the bug.

The restaurant that the car took them to was fancy – way too fancy for Daryl's blood, but it was on Negan's dime so he figured he could resist the urge to offer Rick and Michonne something else. They were probably used to dining in high-class places like this anyway.

The car rolled to a stop and the driver got out to open the door. Michonne slid out first, pushing her hair from in front of her shoulders, and Daryl gestured for Rick to exit first and he left lastly. He looked over at the driver as he closed the door.

"We got a time limit?" he asked the man. He didn't know his name, which annoyed him because he had always tried to get someone's name when he was interacting with them.

The man shook his head. "Stay as long as you like," he replied, before he went back around the car and got back in, driving off down the road to do whatever it was personal drivers did while they were waiting for their charge to finish their business. It was probably commonplace for the man, waiting around at Negan's beck and call, but it still sat uncomfortably in Daryl's throat.

He turned to find Rick and Michonne in conversation, their hands moving fluidly in the air between them, mouths moving as well. Daryl wondered if the silent speech was a force of habit, or if it was important when communicating with sign language – again his lack of knowledge on the matter frustrated him, and he vowed when he went home he would study a little of it so that he could understand better.

He approached the pair and they stopped to regard him. Rick's eyes were incredibly bright in the afternoon light and Daryl found himself ducking his head, cheeks going pink as the full force of his stare was leveled on Daryl's mouth.

"Guess we can go in?" he asked, gesturing towards the door, and Michonne smiled.

"After you," Michonne said with a nod, and they parted so that Daryl could pass between them and push at the first glass door that led to the foyer, and then through the second that opened into the restaurant proper. A man in a suit was standing behind a small kiosk and he looked up as they entered, a large smile plastered on his face.

"Afternoon!" he greeted cheerily. "Three?"

"Please," Daryl replied, and the man nodded and grabbed three menus, handing them to a waiter standing nearby.

"Table thirty," he told the waiter, who nodded and told them to follow him in. The table they were led to was by the window at street level where they'd be able to watch people passing by. From the angle of it the window and the booth was warmed by the light but not uncomfortable, and Daryl sat in the side of the booth facing the door. Michonne slid in the other side and Rick took the outside next to her.

The waiter introduced himself as Eric, handing out their menus and reciting the specials for them before promising to return with water. Daryl waited for him to leave before he turned his attention to his menu, inwardly cringing at the prices he was looking at. Jesus, even a fucking salad here was upwards of twenty dollars. For _rabbit food_.

He wasn't very hungry, having just eaten, so he decided on a lighter offering of the roast chicken before putting his menu back down and directing his attention to the other two at the table. Rick wasn't even looking at the menu – his eyes were on Daryl.

Daryl shifted his weight and cleared his throat, looking out of the window, but his gaze was drawn back to Rick within a moment. It felt rude to break gazes with the man and he wondered if this was how, despite his disability, Rick had risen so high in his career. He couldn't be much older than Daryl but he had a presence about him that commanded respect and attention.

Daryl cleared his throat again and scratched at the back of his neck. Rick quirked up an eyebrow and sat back so his hands had room to move. Michonne looked up from her menu to watch Rick's hands.

She grinned. "You seem nervous."

Daryl's cheeks darkened in color. He could feel the heat of them against his hand and hoped that he could blame it on the warmth in the restaurant. "Not nervous," he replied, not even sure at this point if it was a lie or not. "Just…got a lot on my plate at work right now." He looked at Rick. "I emailed you this morning about the Amex thing -."

"Let's not talk about work," Michonne said, repeating what Rick was signing. The man was smiling.

Daryl raised an eyebrow. "Then what should we talk about?"

Rick shrugged. "It's been a long time since we've been in Virginia," Michonne said for him. "We're based out of Atlanta, normally."

Daryl nodded. "I was born and raised in King County," he said.

Rick blinked at him, before he went back to signing. "What made you move up here?"

"School, at first," Daryl replied, shaking his head. "Then when the money ran out for that I had to get a job and this place was the only one hiring. Been here for a few years now."

"Do you miss Georgia?"

Good God, did he ever. He nodded, biting his lower lip. Rick smiled again. "Well, a job with us would require relocation back there."

"Thought you said you didn't wanna talk about work," Daryl teased. Before Rick could reply Eric came back with their waters. Michonne ordered a Diet Coke and Rick ordered a glass of wine. They ordered their food as well – Daryl his chicken, Michonne and Rick both ordered steak. Daryl gave a little nod of appreciation at their choices. They seemed to have no qualms about taking advantage of Negan's money.

Then again, on Saint Patrick's Day Negan rented out a whole local Irish bar and paid the tab for the whole company, so Daryl had to assume he wasn't hurting for the random splurge. Eric took their menus and left to put in their order, so that the three of them were once again alone.

"I am curious about this American Express situation though," Rick signed. "I haven't checked my email today, so I apologize for the delay in response. Would you mind explaining it to me?"

Daryl nodded, biting the inside of his cheek to stop his instinctive, annoyed huff. "In February we enrolled a bunch of MIDs into the program that lets us deposit it all as one – Visa, Discover, MasterCard, and Amex. It was an automatic thing. We sent out an email to all the signers on the account but…" He shrugged one shoulder. "You're not the signer."

"No, I'm just the lowly accountant who has to deal with all this crap," Rick replied with a small huff. "I don't like dealing with Negan. I don't like that he does things like this without proper notification, but…I do like this idea. This enrollment. Would it be a huge pain to enroll the other MIDs?"

Daryl winced.

Rick noticed. "That's a 'Yes'."

"I'm the guy's gotta do 'em," Daryl replied, rubbing the back of his neck again. It was getting hard to keep talking with Rick watching his mouth so steadily. Of course, Daryl knew this was how Rick had to work to understand his half of the conversation, but Daryl wondered if it might be easier if Michonne signed to him while he spoke. Michonne was used to Rick's presence, his power – she was good at handling it just like Dwight was good at handling Negan's affairs. Daryl wasn't used to this kind of thing. He stayed in his cubicle and kept his head down and then he went home and lived alone and didn't have to deal with _people_. "And yeah, one MID takes about six minutes. You've got almost five hundred."

Rick's eyes flashed and he sighed through his nose, shaking his head. "Sounds like a lot of work," he signed.

"It is," Daryl replied. "And takin' phone calls, and buildin' new accounts whenever they get sent to me…" He paused, thinking of the emails sitting in his inbox from Underwriting. He'd made a note to build them after lunch and yet here he was, wasting the day away with two people who really shouldn't even know his name. He stifled a groan. "I mean, it'll suck, but if it's what you want then I can do it."

"We'll think about it," Michonne said, although Daryl was sure she was doing that thing where she said _We_ instead of _I._ Daryl could understand how that might be awkward.

"What exactly would I be doing for you guys, if I jumped ship?" Daryl asked hesitantly.

Rick's expression changed for a brief moment – if Daryl hadn't been watching him so closely, he might have missed it. His lips twitched up unevenly into a smirk that was almost devious before he schooled his expression.

"Mostly what you've been doing for us so far," Michonne said as Rick signed. "Our accountant went away on maternity leave and we've been hurting for a replacement. You know how our accounts work, where the money goes and how it moves."

Daryl snorted. "Not exactly an accountant," he said, shifting his weight.

"As good as," came the reply. "We trust you'll pick it up quickly, should you decide to join us."

"You said I could think about it," Daryl said. "How long I got?"

Rick cocked his head to one side. "We'll be in Virginia until the weekend. We fly back Saturday morning. There's a plane ticket with your name on it if you decide to join us."

Daryl's eyes widened. "That's not a lot of time to uproot," he said, though truthfully it was more time than he needed. His lease was almost up on his apartment and he didn't have a lot of things. Finding a place in Atlanta would be the hardest part.

"We're willing to cover the costs of relocation until you find a place that's suitable."

Daryl smirked. "Man, you guys must _really_ want me," he said.

Michonne stifled a laugh as Rick's fingers twitched, hesitating on whatever he was signing. She covered her mouth and shook her head. "You have _no_ idea," she said, covering her mouth so that Rick couldn't read what she was saying. The man glared at her, his cheeks turning pink, before he took in a breath and went back to signing.

"Yes, we believe you'll be an important addition to our company. Like we said, we don't want to go with Negan to Europe and Canada. His competitors are far beyond in that respect and frankly the rates, while not exactly the same, are worth the extra expense."

Daryl nodded, pressing his lips together. "I'm not goin' if I can't take Glenn," he said. Rick blinked, a frown passing over his face. "He works with me, brilliant guy. Went to school for sysadmin stuff but Negan put him on the Goddamn phones. If I go, he goes too."

Rick seemed to consider that for a moment, before he nodded. "Done."

Daryl let out a breath. "Okay," he said. He wasn't sure Glenn would want to or be able to come with him, but he wouldn't leave his friend high and dry like that. He knew he should probably talk things like salary and benefits, but those were never things he had thought about too much anyway. He trusted Rick to be fair, after all. Still, "I'll talk to him about it. At least make the offer."

Rick smiled. "Tell him starting pay for our sysadmin is 60 a year, and relocation for him as well if he needs it."

Daryl's eyes widened. Sixty thousand was over a third on top of what Negan was paying them. "Damn," he muttered, shaking his head. "You people got way too much fuckin' money."

Rick didn't exactly laugh – Daryl wondered if he knew what a laugh sounded like – but the huff he let out was distinctly amused. "We believe in rewarding good work. Guaranteed raises every six months depending on performance. You'll be starting at 75. That's what our accountant was making."

"Holy _shit_ ," Daryl said. That was more money than he even knew what to do with. He could buy a fucking mansion in Georgia if he played it smart and saved up right. He couldn't say anything else, as Eric returned with Rick and Michonne's drinks. Rick smiled at the waiter before he left, and raised his glass in a toast. He didn't sign anything, but nodded before taking a drink, and Daryl fought the urge to smile.

Rick let out a soft, appreciative hum, licking his lips as he set his wine glass down. Daryl figured they were past the point of talking about work now – he didn't need to hear anymore and frankly he felt dizzy at the offer, and the fact that he had apparently just accepted it.

"Were you born deaf?" he asked, the movement of his mouth catching Rick's attention.

Rick smiled and shook his head. "When I was younger my friend and I were always outside, I contracted meningitis when I was seven."

Daryl winced in sympathy. He wondered how often Rick had to tell that story. "That sucks," he said, at a loss of anything else to say.

Rick shrugged. "Being that young made it easier to adapt, I suppose. My friend Shane, and Michonne here learned sign language quickly so I've never had a problem getting by." Daryl blinked, surprised that he and Michonne had known each other that long. "I regret not being able to hear certain things, like people's voices and music, but that's the way."

"I guess," Daryl said. He personally preferred silence, but couldn't imagine being unable to choose. His brother and father had always been loud and even though they lived in a part of Georgia that was relatively quiet, the woods and the outdoors offered him the sounds of cicadas and wildlife, and the gentle whir of cars driving by when he was unable to sleep.

Their food was brought shortly after. The steaks were dripping with juice and Daryl's chicken was delicious moist. They ate in relative silence, since Rick was unable to use his hands to communicate and Daryl didn't particularly feel like talking. His mind was racing, starting to pick through the things he owned and what he would need to do to facilitate the move. If Rick and Michonne wanted him to fly back with them he'd need to have everything packed and ready to ship. He'd need to terminate his lease and make arrangement to register his motorcycle down in Georgia again.

He wondered if Glenn would be willing to handle a U-Haul, ship both of their shit down there once Daryl got situation and he was ready to go. Glenn might not come with him, though. The thought made him sad.

Once they were done with food Eric came and took their plates away and left the check at Daryl's request. He put Negan's credit card in the check presenter and sat it at once corner of the table, balling up his napkin and placing it in front of him.

"I'm glad we were able to do this," Rick signed after a moment, his eyes bright with happiness, his smile gentle.

Daryl offered a smile in return. "Guess I'd better get to work typing up my resignation," he said, only half-joking.

Rick's eyes flashed. Another devious expression moved swiftly across his face before it was gone. "Yes, I suppose that would be best," he said. He stood when Eric returned their check and Daryl signed a generous tip to him – the entirety of the check, twice over – and pocketed the card. Michonne slid out after him and Daryl brought up the rear, letting Rick lead them out of the restaurant.

Michonne turned and smiled at him from behind Rick as they stood on the curb, waiting for the car to pull up. "You've made him very happy," she said with a wink, and Daryl blushed and knew he couldn’t blame it at all on the heat of being inside. "He talks about you all the time, really."

"I hope I live up to whatever expectations he has," Daryl replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "And Glenn."

Michonne's eyes sparkled when she smiled. "I'm sure you will," she said. Just then the car pulled up and they all got inside. The drive back was silent, Rick offering little smiles whenever Daryl met his eyes. When they returned to the building Dwight was there to greet them and led Rick and Michonne over to the nice elevators that would take them to Negan's section. Rick hesitated, before he turned and reached into one of the inner pockets of his suit jacket. He pulled out a small white card and handed it to Daryl. It has his name, title, the name of his company and a phone number on it.

He tapped against it and then mimicked texting, and Daryl smiled, sliding it into his pocket. He handed Rick the credit card and Rick smiled at him before joining Dwight and Michonne by the elevator.

Rick turned to look at him one more time and lifted his hand in a little wave. Daryl smiled and waved back, before he got into the employee elevator and went up to the fourth floor. His mind was buzzing and his fingers itched, but he knew he couldn't give anything away as he walked over to his desk. The queue light was blinking red and he had four accounts to build and seven emails sitting and waiting for him. The damn guy demanding the credit card number had left him another voicemail.

Glenn stood as soon as he heard Daryl sit, his eyes wide. He was on the phone and gesturing wildly and it looked so unrefined after the smooth, fluid motion of Rick when he talked. "Skype?" he was mouthing frantically, and Daryl nodded, signing into his computer.

_Glenn: Dude. How'd it go? Where were you??_

_Daryl: We're about to lose the Grimes accounts._

_Glenn: What?? The fuck did you do?? Negan's gonna be pissed!_

_Daryl: Don't matter. Rick offered me a job._

_Glen: !!!!!! Are you serious?_

Daryl smirked.

_Daryl: Yep. And I'm taking it. I leave at the end of the week._

_Glenn: Fuck you man._

_Daryl: There's an offer in it for you too. Got him to give you a job. 60k sysadmin work. Relocation covered. You interested?_

_Glenn: …Fuck. 60k? No joke?_

_Daryl: No joke._

_Glenn: I gotta talk to Maggie about it but fuck yeah I'm interested._

_Daryl: Good. I'll tell him that tonight. Got his number._

_Glenn: Damn Dixon!!_

Daryl rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh.

_Daryl: Not like THAT, asshole._

_Glenn: Dude, I've seen his LinkedIn page. I'm straight and that guy's 13/10._

Daryl blushed and shifted his weight in his chair, biting his lower lip.

_Daryl: I'm ignoring you now._

_Glenn: Hahahaha. Talk to you after work._

Daryl rolled his eyes again and closed out of the window, before he opened the first email from Underwriting and opened up the programs he would need to start building the accounts. This part of his job was glorified data entry and his fingers usually hurt from all the Alt-Tab, C&P, Alt-Tab, C&V, but it was therapeutic and he didn't usually have to think too hard while he did it.

An hour later he had caught up and it was twenty minutes until the end of the day. Then he got an email from Negan himself.

_Daryl,_

_Come to my office. Now._

Daryl groaned. He should have seen this coming. He closed out of everything and stood, catching Glenn's wide-eyed look. He offered a half-hearted salute and turned away from the cubicles, following the route he had just taken hours prior towards Negan's office, which was right next to the conference room. The door was closed and he knocked on it.

"Come in," came Negan's voice.

When Daryl opened the door he let out a soft gasp. Negan's office was _huge_ , laughably large. The entirety of the support department could fit in the whole damn space comfortably. There was a giant TV on his wall and a fucking golf simulator set up in one corner. Fucking ridiculous is what it was. Negan was sitting at his desk, his hands folded neatly in front of him, his face stony. He wasn't even bothering to wear his fake thousand-watt smile. This expression was pure darkness, blue eyes fixed flatly on Daryl as he entered.

"Take a seat," he said coldly. Daryl fought back a smirk, sure that the past conversation with Rick and Michonne had gone far from as he'd liked. He wondered if he'd even managed to come up with a deadline for Europe and Canada. Daryl walked forward and took a seat in one of the empty chairs opposite Negan. "I thought I told you not to fuck this up for me, Daryl."

Daryl bit his lower lip and shrugged. He didn't like being this close to Negan, alone with him. Negan's presence felt like he was trying to suffocate Daryl, huge and imposing but fake – too fake, too flimsy. Still, it made Daryl's skin prickle uncomfortably.

"He didn't wanna talk about work," Daryl said with a small shrug.

Negan's expression darkened further. "We're going to lose the Grimes accounts," he said flatly. "You know how much money that is? I could _strangle_ you right now."

Daryl went tense.

"But, this could be a learning opportunity," Negan said, his attitude suddenly shifting. He sat back and smiled widely – too widely, like the Cheshire cat. "I know how much you like working here, Daryl. I can make it worth your while if you find it in your heart to drag up some kernel of loyalty to us. We've treated you well, you can't deny that."

Daryl frowned. "What do you want, Negan?" he asked.

"Rick told me he intends to take you with him to Atlanta," Negan said, turning in his chair so that he could stand. He spread his hands out in a gesture of welcome. "Now, maybe you go, maybe you don't. All I'm saying is _if_ you go, you might be able to make yourself useful down there."

He turned to face Daryl again. "I wanna make this _real_ clear, Daryl. You're less than dead to me if you try and fuck this up."

"You threatenin' me?" Daryl challenged.

"I'm making you an _offer_ ," Negan replied with a smile. "I'll keep payin' your salary as well as whatever pretty penny Rick's offered you. You need anything from me, it's yours. What I want in return is information. On Rick's operations, his deals, his associates. Man's more closed than a virgin at Sunday service."

Daryl's eyes narrowed. "You want me to spy on him," he said.

Negan grinned, snapping his fingers and pointing at Daryl. "There it is!" he crowed. "Nothin' too bad. Just a little bit of dirt – something to _incense_ him to comin' back to the fold, you know? Rick needs to learn he's got a friend here and we can take care of him."

Daryl stood. "You're insane," he snapped. "You think offerin' me _money_ is gonna make me give away secrets to someone like you?"

"I'll pay double," Negan said, smiling. "Triple if that's what you need. I don't care how you do it – Hell, you can fuck the truth out of him for all I care. I just need a little bit of motivation." Then his smile melted away, turning back into that stone-cold face he had worn when Daryl first entered. "I can make your life very difficult if you refuse, Daryl."

"You can't do anythin' to me," Daryl hissed.

Negan nodded, pursing his lips. "Maybe not," he said. "But Carol's got a kid, doesn't she? I'd hate to see her lose this job. It's the first one she's had in years. And Tara's family threw her out when she came out of the closet. She's got nowhere to go. And…you have a brother, don't you? Wasting away in jail? I throw enough money his way, he gets the best lawyer in the country. He can be out tomorrow."

Daryl's eyes widened and he took a step back. "You're…" He shook his head, breathing out shakily. "You wouldn't."

"I'd trade you all in for a Goddamn car, Daryl. Don't test me."

Daryl swallowed. It was one thing to risk his own future, but he couldn't do that to Tara, or Carol, or anyone else in his department. That wasn't fair – this offer wasn't fair. "And if I agree," he said quietly, lifting his eyes, "you won't touch 'em. Tara, Carol, Glenn, _none of 'em_."

"Of course," Negan said, grinning again.

"I want your _word_ ," Daryl demanded. "I want it Goddamn notarized, signed, sealed with your _blood,_ you piece of shit."

Negan chuckled. "Anything you want, Daryl," he said. He circled the desk and rested a hand on Daryl's shoulder. Daryl fought the urge to flinch from him or throw a punch. He was so angry he could barely see. "You'll have the contract tomorrow morning. Get me dirt on Rick Grimes – make friends with him, learn his accounts, get as close as you possibly can, and all is forgiven." He squeezed Daryl's shoulder painfully tightly and forced a whine from him, his knees shaking. "Do we have a deal?"

Daryl closed his eyes, his throat burning, and nodded.

"Good." Negan let him go. "Now get the fuck out of my office. Pack your desk. I never want to see your face again."

Daryl nodded again, breathing in heavily to try and stop the room spinning. He left Negan's office without a word and collapsed against the door once it was closed. He ran his hands through his hair, they were trembling.

" _Fuck_ ," he whispered, gritting his teeth. " _Fuck_."

 


	3. Chapter 3

Daryl was so angry he legitimately thought about punching one of the pretty red walls on his way back to his cubicle, but resisted the urge. All in all that could have gone a lot worse than it did – he had to look at things a certain way. He was going to be making way more money than he knew what to do with, and he had protected the jobs of all the people he cared about and all he'd had to do was sign away his soul to the Devil.

There were worse things, he supposed. After all it wasn't like Rick's accounts were going to be in _bad_ hands when and if he ever decided to get back into bed with Negan for the processing of his money. The company itself wasn't a bad company, it was just that the big boss was a fucking psychopath and didn't really give a shit about anything except making money.

By the time Daryl got back to his desk it was two minutes until the end of the day, so he spent his time deleting all of his emails, setting an outgoing message for the foreseeable future letting everyone inside and outside the organization know that he was no longer with the company (because he didn't need people calling in three weeks from now screaming at someone asking why he wasn't answering his phone or emails), and then shut down his computer. He didn't have anything at his desk in terms of personal items except his messenger bag and a large souvenir cup he'd gotten from the release of the newest _Star Trek_ movie (which he kept in the misguided hopes that having a cup that large would force him to drink more water at his desk).

He put the cup in his bag and waited until Glenn was off the phone and clocked out. The man went into the kitchen to grab his lunch bag and Daryl followed, falling into step beside him as they walked out of the office together.

Daryl could feel Glenn practically buzzing with energy and it seemed an unspoken agreement that they both went to Glenn's truck and got in, and Glenn drove them over the highway to the other side where there was a small collection of restaurants, bars, and a movie theatre. It was one of the places in Virginia that would eventually spawn a group of apartment buildings and recreational activities so that it was its own little city.

There was one such bar, _World of Beer_ , which was a chain restaurant that had a menu the size of a normal fine dining space dedicated specifically to a group of seasonal and revolving beer specials. On Tuesday nights they hosted a bar trivia quiz that Glenn, Daryl and one of their coworkers, Bob, used to go to before Bob relocated to Maryland and quit with the company.

They sat at one of the outside tables since it was still relatively nice out and Daryl gave the menu a quick once-over before ordering one of the seasonal specials. Glenn got a pint of Guinness which always surprised Daryl since Glenn didn't look like the kind of guy who drank anything darker than Yuengling. The waitress left them with their menus so that they could peruse more if they wanted and then Glenn sat forward, his hands on the table, eyes bright with anticipation.

Daryl smirked. "Got fired today," he said.

Glenn's eyes widened. "Shit," he replied. "'Cause of Grimes?"

"Kind of." Daryl shrugged and lifted his thumb to his mouth, biting at the nail. "So I get told to go to that meeting, meet Rick and his assistant, Michonne – oh, turns out he's deaf, by the way. That's why he won't ever talk to anyone on the phone." Glenn nodded, letting out a little hum of understanding. "So he's pissed 'cause of Europe and Canada and whatever else, tells Negan he needs to get his ass in gear, so Negan calls all the managers together and tells me to take Rick and Michonne to lunch."

Glenn blinked at him. "Wait, so you were gone so long 'cause you went to _lunch_?" he repeated.

Daryl nodded. "Yeah. Turns out he also came up here 'cause he wanted to offer me a job with him since he knew he'd probably be leaving Negan this week." Glenn nodded, his face smoothing out in understanding. "And I told him I ain't leavin' without at least offering you a chance to come with 'cause like fuck am I leavin' you alone here. So he offered you the sysadmin job. Seems like a pretty sweet deal."

"It does," Glenn agreed, falling silent and offering a 'Thank you' when the waitress brought their first round of beers. He took a sip of his Guinness and Daryl drank the seasonal he'd ordered. It was crisp and tasted vaguely of plums. Glenn licked his lips. "I mean, like I said, I'm super interested. Great pay, and I'd love to be in a city, and of course Maggie can work anywhere…"

Daryl nodded. Glenn's fiancé, Maggie, was originally from Georgia as well if he recalled correctly. She had just gotten her degree and was running her first class teaching online. Something to do with business analysis or management or…something. She had told him once. But even she seemed to find it boring to talk about so Daryl didn't feel too guilty about not remembering.

"I'll talk to her tonight about it," Glenn said with a smile. "Sucks you got fired though, man. I guess I won't see you the rest of the week."

Daryl shrugged. "Gives me more time to sort shit out, I guess," he said. "If you both decide to come down we can split rent on a place until we all find somewhere more permanent that suits. And if you're willin' I can go halves on a U-Haul if you and Maggie drive down. Rick wants me on the flight back with him this weekend."

Glenn blinked. "Damn, this guy works fast."

"He seemed very eager and very assured that I would say yes," Daryl agreed. "Can't say he was wrong. Anyone who knows Negan probably knows it ain't hard to get his people to leave him."

Glenn smiled, this sly thing. "Sure, and it's _nothin'_ to do with the fact that's he's super pretty too, right?"

Daryl's cheeks turned pink and he took another sip of his beer. "Shut the fuck _up,_ Rhee, oh my _God_."

"What?" Glenn crowed, grinning. "I'm just sayin'. He's hot, he's rich, and apparently he's not as big an asshole as we thought he was." He shrugged. "You could do worse."

"He's also gonna be my _boss_ ," Daryl replied with a hiss. Glenn's eyes were bright with humor at Daryl's obvious discomfort. "You're such an asshole. Why are we friends?"

"I like to think it's proximity and desperation," Glenn replied coolly. "Which, coincidentally, is gonna be the same combination with Mister Confident-Enough-To-Buy-You-A-Plane-Ticket. Think about it, Daryl – this is practically fairytale!"

 _Yeah, complete with a wicked witch_ , Daryl thought, abruptly reminded of the deal he'd had to strike with Negan to protect his friends and coworker's from the man's wrath. He hummed, taking another sip of his drink, and sighed.

"Hey, but seriously," Glenn said, sending Daryl's sobering mood, "I'm happy for you. I'm happy for _us_. This is gonna be a _good thing_ , Daryl." He raised his glass and Daryl smiled, clinking theirs together before taking another drink. He was almost finished and like clockwork, the waitress came by offering them a second round, which they agreed to.

It wasn't like Daryl had to be up early for work in the morning.

 

 

 

When Daryl got to his apartment, he found a thick envelope sitting propped up against the door. There was a note attached to it and he picked it up, unlocking his apartment and flicking on the light as he read the note;

                _Daryl,_

_Inside you will see the contract I had written up in anticipation of your new job requirements. Sign these and drop off a copy with Eugene tomorrow morning._

_Negan._

Daryl rolled his eyes and huffed, setting the envelope down as he took off his boots and jacket and locked his apartment door behind him. His apartment was small, a living room, kitchenette and then a single bedroom and bathroom that overall took up about 700 square feet. It was all anyone on his salary could really afford in this area without getting roommates.

He shoved a microwave dinner from the fridge into the microwave to cook as he went about his normal evening routine. He wasn't all that hungry but he also had nothing pressing him to go to bed early so that he could get up.

His apartment was sparse, not even a television in it or a couch. He had two rolling chairs and a desk on which his laptop sat, and a few bookshelves that held more old machine parts and little figures than actual books. The only exception was the shelf of manuals and coding and finance books he'd picked up here and there when he still entertained dreams of going to college.

Waste of money is what it was. There was nothing he had learned there that he hadn't found better put online.

He pulled the envelope over to him and slid out the contract with a sigh. It was in a thin binder, plain and black. On the inside was the contract which was littered with little yellow tabs where he needed to sign or initial.

He sat back and turned on the light before he began to read it over. Now, he was no lawyer, but the contract seemed easy enough to follow as he remembered their conversation. Daryl was to find information on Rick Grimes with the purpose that he would be able to convince Rick "through any legal and available means" to return to Negan's company and continue processing with them. Daryl snorted at the phrasing, but forced himself to keep reading all of it, and then reading it again just to make sure he understood exactly what he was signing.

In return, Negan would pay his salary as a remote employee and promised that "no arrangements regarding the personnel and resources that the recipient has access to will be altered in any way". Meaning no one was going to get fired, or moved around, or touched in any way as long as Daryl played ball.

Daryl was also forbidden to talk about or explain this contract in any way to anyone, otherwise all the agreements would be null and void. Daryl swallowed, glad that he had decided not to tell Glenn about the dark deal he'd had to make to save everyone's jobs. It would be just his luck to fuck over this arrangement before it had a chance to begin.

Daryl sighed and grabbed a pen, before he sat out and signed and initialed every place that had been marked, dating it on the last page. It felt like a little piece of his soul got left on the paper, and Daryl wondered – not for the first time – whether it was ever going to be possible to be rid of Negan completely. Realistically he knew that if he convinced Rick to come back into Negan's partnership, then he'd have to continue dealing with the man and his company for the rest of his career. And there was no guarantee that once that was done Negan wouldn't then turn on Daryl and get him fired by exposing what he'd done in the first place.

There was no winning with this, Daryl abruptly realized as he signed the last space. There was no coming out on top when playing with Negan. He closed his eyes and sighed, shaking his head, and slid the contract back into the envelope and placed it by the door so he wouldn't forget it in the morning. The microwave started to deep, telling him that his food was ready. He wasn't hungry, so he took it out of the microwave and threw it straight into the trash.

"Fuck," he muttered, shaking his head. He ran his hands through his hair and then down his chest, digging his hands into his pockets. His fingers touched Rick's business card and he pulled it out, looking a the number for a long time.

He should text Rick and tell him that the deal was off. He should walk away from both companies and learn to figure out his own damn problems like an adult and not let himself fall any farther down this rabbit hole than he'd already gotten.

But he couldn't do that. He had already made an agreement with Rick and promised him that he'd work for him – and he liked the guy. Daryl was man enough to admit when he'd been wrong about someone and he'd clearly been wrong about Rick. Sure, the guy was rich and clearly had a way of living that was way above Daryl's and some level of pretentiousness was always going to come from that, but he'd also agreed to make a very generous offer of employment to a complete stranger based solely on Daryl's recommendation, because he liked Daryl and trusted Daryl enough to trust his friends, and that showed that he always gave way more of a damn about Daryl and his wellbeing than Negan ever had.

He shouldn't work for a man like that and be playing double agent. That wasn't fair, and it wasn't right, and Daryl already hated himself.

He pulled out his cell phone and typed in Rick's number. _Hey, this is Daryl Dixon_ , he typed, and then sent. He threw away the business card and set his phone down on his desk by his laptop. Through one of his walls he could hear his neighbors starting to have sex. He rolled his eyes.

His phone buzzed – two short, sharp vibrations that drew his attention.

_Hi Daryl. How are you?_

Daryl couldn't help smiling as he looked at the text. Glenn's teasing words replayed in his mind and he shook his head, letting out an annoyed huff. This was ridiculous. He'd had one meal with the man and didn't even know what he was saying without Michonne there to translate and here he was grinning at a text from him like some thirteen-year-old schoolgirl.

_Fine. Negan was pissed about the whole deal going south, I guess._

_I hope there weren't any negative repercussions._

_I mean, I got fired. But I guess that doesn't matter when I was leaving anyway._

For a long moment his phone was silent, enough that Daryl thought Rick may have deemed the conversation over. Then, he felt his phone buzzing in his hand again.

_No, I suppose it doesn't. Did you extend our offer to your friend?_

_Yeah. Says he'll talk to his fiancé about it. Should have an answer for you by tomorrow._

_Excellent. Good night, Daryl._

_Night, Rick._

Daryl smiled to himself as he sent his last text, before he set his phone back down. His laptop caught his eye and he cocked his head to one side, before going over and sitting down in front of it. It powered on with a small, dusty whirr from the fan. He needed a new computer.

 Soon he'd actually be able to afford one.

At a loss of anything else to do, he brought up a Google page and typed in "Learn American Sign Language". He knew that it was its own culture and language all of its own but if his new boss was deaf then Daryl owed it to him and himself to at least try and figure out how to communicate and understand him without needing Michonne around to recite everything to him.

It seemed like he had a few days where he could pack, get his shit in order, and learn as much about ASL and how to use it as he could. So, decided, he opened up the first link that boasted free resources and tutorials and tried to put any thought of Negan and the contract from his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Daryl woke up to his cell phone ringing, the screen brightly lit and telling him that Carol was calling him. He groaned, checking the red numbers on his alarm clock. It told him that it was nine in the morning. He answered the call. "Yeah?"

"Daryl, where are you? Are you sick?" Carol's worried voice came over the other end of the phone. Daryl sighed. His eyes hurt from looking at his computer for most of the night and his head was aching from trying to absorb a whole new language. Some of it had stuck – Daryl was a fast learner – but he was looking forward to being able to practice with Michonne and Rick and get better at it.

"Negan fired me, Carol," he replied. "I won't be coming back."

"Negan…" He heard a chair creaking as Carol sat back, before she sighed. "The Hell did you do?"

"No one told you?" he asked, although the answer was obvious. One of the things he had always hated about that job was the lack of communication. A whole server could go down and they'd be flooded with calls about problems to which there was no solution until Gregory would idle by, whistling to himself, and tell them that they'd have to just take names and numbers and call them back. Their ticket system would be flooded with callback requests and it was incredibly frustrating, especially when tech would push an update out at three on a fucking Wednesday that would break shit like that.

"No," Carol replied sadly. "I can talk to him if you'd like."

"Nah, not necessary," Daryl said. "Negan talked it over with me. I'm dropping off the paperwork today."

"Damn, that's fast," Carol said. Then, "Well will you at least have lunch with me? For old times' sake?"

"'Course," Daryl said, pushing himself upright in his bed. He rubbed his hand over his forehead and heaved a breath. "I'll swing by at noon. That's when you go, right?" As a supervisor Carol had to alter her lunch schedule to fit when the call volume would be relatively low. Of course, it was never gone, but with the shifts they took there always had to be someone there to ask questions of or escalate to when needed.

"Noon-thirty," Carol said. Daryl could hear her smile. "See you then."

Daryl said 'Goodbye' and hung up, checking his phone to see a text from Glenn that had come in at eight. _Maggie's on board. We can go halves on a U-Haul. I'll swing by Friday night to get your stuff._ Daryl smiled.

_Sounds good, I'll let Rick know._

He didn't expect an answer from Glenn since they weren't allowed their personal phones at their desk, so Daryl opened his text chain from Rick and typed out; _Glenn agreed. Let me know what information you need from me._

He put his phone down and got out of bed, his stomach rumbling in protest at not having eaten since the late lunch the day before. Daryl went to the fridge and got out another microwave dinner, putting it in, and took two painkillers with water while he waiting for the food to cook. His phone chimed and he went back to his room, picking it up.

 _Excellent. What's his email address and personal phone number?_ Daryl texted back with that information. _I'll reach out to him tonight. Thank you, Daryl._

 _My pleasure,_ Daryl replied, smiling as he put his phone down on the kitchen counter, having wandered back in while texting Rick. He felt giddy despite the situation, eager to move back to the state that he'd called home for so long. He wondered how much it might have changed, if he would even recognize the sound of the Georgia wild when he stepped back into it.

The microwave beeped and he pulled out his food, hissing at the heat before grabbing a fork and digging in. He went back to his laptop and fired it back up to find the tutorials and websites he'd pulled up. As he ate he opened another Youtube video with general conversation signs, watching the way the person on the screen's hands moved. He had already memorized the alphabet and his free hand worked through them as he ate, making sure he could remember all of them.

When he was done, he paused the video and threw his empty dinner away and washed his fork. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. He needed to go get boxes. He grabbed his messenger bag and slid the contract inside, sure that he wouldn't forget it, before he set it down and went back to his bedroom to shower and change.

As he showered, he made a mental list of all he would need to do to move. Give notice to his landlord, of course, that he wouldn't be renewing his lease and agree to pay whatever move-out fees and deposits he still owed. He didn't smoke in his apartment and never kept pets so he didn't think it would be too much.

He'd need to register his motorcycle and look up hotels he would be able to stay in until he found a place. He needed to find a place – he had enough in savings for a deposit on a decent apartment just outside Atlanta, but first he'd have to figure out where he was staying. He'd need to pay for a trailer for Glenn and Maggie to pull behind with their vehicles. Glenn and Maggie had more stuff than he did so he'd need to make sure he told them how much room his stuff would take up – though it wouldn't be much – so that they could get the right sized U-Haul. He'd have to pack a bag with enough clothes to last until they moved down and settled.

He sighed, pulling up outside of the local UPS store, and got out. He still had Merle's truck, had taken it with him when he moved, and he'd have to organize selling it once he was ready to leave. He bought a set of ten big boxes and a set of medium ones as well, sure that that would be enough.

His phone chimed as he got back in the truck. It was Glenn. _Maggie says we can stay with her dad and sister. They own a farm about an hour south of Atlanta._ Daryl nodded, pleased that Glenn was being so efficient. _We can probably get a spot for you, too, if you need it._

 _Maybe just to keep my shit but I'll do a motel until then. Don't wanna crowd_ , Daryl replied. He got the 'Ok' emoji back from Glenn in response and smirked, shaking his head. He turned the truck on and drove back to his apartment and hauled the boxes upstairs.

By the time he needed to leave to meet Carol for lunch and drop off the contract, he had packed most of his apartment already. It was almost sad how little he had to his name, but Daryl had never been a person interested in possessions. His pride and joy was his crossbow, still lovingly maintained even though he hadn't used it since moving up to Virginia, and his motorcycle which he also kept in pristine condition.

He grabbed his messenger bag and locked his door before knocking on his neighbors – the ones on the other side of him who didn't have sex all the time. Two women lived here, Denise and her brother Dennis. Dennis was a pothead and Daryl liked him well enough. He was the person to talk to about anything going on in the apartment building.

Dennis opened the door, letting out a waft of sour-smelling weed odor. Daryl wrinkled his nose and swallowed. "Hey," he greeted. "I'm sellin' a bunch of furniture and shit when I come back. Spread the word, will ya?"

Dennis regarded him with red, wide eyes, before he nodded and cleared his throat. "Yeah, man, you got it," he said, and then closed the door. Daryl rolled his eyes and went back down the stairs to grab his motorcycle. It was a warm, sunny day and without the threat of rush hour traffic to make him hesitate, he saw no reason not to ride the bike to his old workplace.

He pulled up outside of the office building with a few minutes to spare and walked around to the nicer entrance Negan and visitors used. Eugene greeted him with a nod. "Good morning, Mister Dixon. You're looking well."

Daryl bit his lip and grunted in reply. "Got the contract," he said, handing it over. Eugene smiled.

"Thank you," he said. Daryl also handed over the key fob that allowed him access to the locked fourth floor and Eugene nodded, setting it down on his side of his desk. "Good. Everything appears to be in order. It was a pleasure knowing you. I wish you all the best with your future endeavors."

Daryl grunted again, nodding, before he turned and left the building and walked back around to the front. Carol was leaving just as he approached his bike and he lifted his hand in a wave, catching her attention. They walked over to her car.

"I can't believe this is happening," Carol said. "Glenn turned in his resignation today too. Is everyone going to be leaving me?" she demanded. She didn't sound angry, just tired. She always sounded tired.

"I'm sorry," Daryl said. "You knew the writing was on the wall with me."

"Yes, but I didn't think you'd leave so _suddenly_ ," she complained. "I guess you didn't have a choice, though. What do you want to eat? Julio's?"

"Fine by me," Daryl said. _Uncle Julio's_ was a tex-mex restaurant in the same little section where _World of Beer_ was. They had good steak tacos. "I'm not sorry it's happenin', just that it had to happen like this."

"Do you have any idea what you'll do?" Carol asked. "Negan made an announcement this morning that you were gone. Glenn handed me his letter right after. Is this…is something happening I should know about?"

Daryl sighed, rubbing his hand over his eyes. His headache was coming back. "Grimes visited yesterday," he said, and Carol nodded. God, how could it have only been twenty-four hours since Daryl's world had so abruptly changed? "He offered me a job. I took it."

Carol blinked at him as she pulled into the parking lot behind the restaurant and they got out of her car. " _Seriously?_ " she demanded, folding her arms across her chest as they walked into the restaurant. "Sounds kind of like a frying-pan-fire situation, Pookie."

Daryl smiled at the nickname, nodding when the host asked if they were sitting for two and guided them to a table. They were left alone until someone gave to fill up their water glasses and told them their server would be with them shortly.

"Rick isn't like that," he said after a moment.

Carol's eyes glittered. "Oh, so it's _Rick_ now, is it?" she said with a teasing grin.

Daryl blushed. "Jesus, between you and Glenn I'm startin' to think y'all are perverts up here," he said.

"I didn't say anything like that, did I?" she said with a big smile. "But now I _know_ he's cute from your reaction. You're gonna have to watch what you say around this one, Daryl."

"He's deaf," Daryl blurted out. "Just gotta make sure to cover my mouth."

Carol laughed. "Oh, but your body language gives you away anyway," she said, her eyes bright. "I'm happy for you, but also go fuck yourself."

Daryl huffed a laugh. "Thanks." Their server came over and introduced himself as Jesus. Daryl ordered his usual steak tacos and Carol ordered a quesadilla and Jesus took their menus away to put their food order in. The restaurant was incredibly busy and the thrum of conversations around them was soothing.

Then, Daryl felt a change in the air. He straightened up, looking over his shoulder as he felt eyes on him. It was Rick and Michonne – standing at the host's station and waiting to be seated. Daryl's eyes widened and he felt frozen. Should he say 'Hello'? Should he wave at them? Should he turn away and pretend he hadn't seen them?

But they had seen him – or at least, Rick had. The man's eyes were fixed on Daryl's, and Daryl wondered how he could already be so sensitive to the man's energy to know it had been Rick before he'd even locked eyes with the man. He managed a weak smile and signed 'Hello'.

Rick blinked, and then smiled and signed 'Hello' back at him. Michonne's eyes caught the movement of his hands and then followed Rick's sight lines until she saw Daryl too. Her mouth split into a smile and she nodded at the host, pointing at them and saying something quietly. The host smiled and grabbed two menus for them and led them over.

"Oh shit," Daryl said, turning back around. Carol was watching him warily. "That's Rick," he hissed, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder, and Carol leaned to one side so that she could see.

She let out a low whistle. "Holy crap, he _is_ cute," she said, and Daryl felt his cheeks go hot. Rick could see her mouth, if he was watching, he'd know what she said.

"Hi Daryl," Michonne greeted when they came to a stop. The host was hovering just behind them, ready to seat them. "Nice to see you again."

"Hey," he said, nodding to both of them and trying desperately to act like his former boss hadn't just been swooning over his future one. "What're you guys doin' here?"

"I got a craving for Mexican and this was the closest thing," Michonne said with a shrug, and Daryl wondered where they could be staying because Los T's was just a few blocks down the road and much more authentic.

Carol straightened up, smiling brightly. "Hi, I'm Carol," she said, conscientious enough to wait until Rick's eyes were on her before speaking. The man's gaze dropped to her mouth and he offered a small smile in return, taking her hand when she offered it to shake. "I'm the woman you're stealing Daryl away from."

Rick huffed a laugh, and Michonne spoke as he signed; "We're sorry about that."

"Not too sorry, I should think," Carol replied, and Rick laughed again – it was a low, quiet sound, more an exhale than anything else. "But I don't blame you at all. I'm sure he'll do you proud."

"We're sure as well."

Rick's eyes flashed to Daryl and he ducked his head, shifting his weight uneasily in his seat. He was starting to feel uncomfortable, reminded of the contract he'd just handed over to Eugene earlier. Rick was trusting him and being so kind and here Daryl was with one hand shaking his and the other holding onto the Devil. He looked up and Rick smiled.

"It was nice seeing you, Daryl," he signed. "Let me know if you need anything else. Enjoy your lunch."

And then they were gone, following the host back to their table, and Daryl let out a shaky breath. Carol was positively glowing with glee, grinning widely at him and Daryl glared at her. "Stop looking at me like that," he hissed.

Carol's eyes twinkled with mirth. "I'm just saying…" she said, taking a sip of her water in picturesque nonchalance, "I don't have to go to college for chemistry to know it when I see it."

"You're makin' shit up," Daryl replied with a roll of his eyes. _Yes_ , Rick was fucking hot, _yes_ Michonne kept making these weird little comments about how eagerly Rick wanted him to work for the man and how happy Daryl's acceptance had made him, but Christ – they'd only just _met_ a day ago and that wasn't long enough for _any_ kind of chemistry, fuck you very much. "And even if you're not, he's gonna be my _boss_."

"Ooh, a forbidden romance," Carol crowed. Jesus brought them their food and she took her knife and fork and started cutting her quesadilla up into small, bite-sized pieces. Daryl grunted and took a drink of his water. "I wonder if deaf people are loud in the sack."

Daryl choked on his water, coughing heavily and setting his glass down so he didn't spill it. "Y'all a bunch of fucking _perverts_ ," he gasped, glaring when Carol smirked and continued to eat. "Fuckin' – don't _say_ shit like that. It ain't cool."

"I was just _wondering_ ," Carol said with a shrug. "But I'm not joking about him. His eyes get all big whenever he looks at you."

Daryl shook his head and took a bite of his taco. "Doesn't matter," Daryl said. "He's gonna be my boss, and…and it wouldn't work anyway." He was just about to tell Carol the truth, about the contract and Negan, but held his tongue. "Ain't gonna shit where I eat."

Carol hummed, taking another bite of her food, and Daryl went back to eating his tacos. It was delicious, as always. Daryl kept feeling eyes on him even though he couldn't see Rick or Michonne at their table. His skin was starting to feel prickly.

"You want any furniture?" he asked after a while. "Sellin' all mine. Figure I'll find a place that's furnished or whatever."

Carol shook her head. "Nah, but I'll ask my friends if anyone wants anything," she replied. Jesus came back a while later with the check and Daryl paid it, figuring it was the least he could do since he was about to start making upwards of a hundred thousand a year between Negan and Rick's paychecks. He wondered how long this was going to last, until the lies came flooding out or until he couldn't take it anymore – which would break first? How long would Negan's patience last?

"I'm sorry," Carol said, touching his arm as they went back to her car. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable or get you all upset. I overstepped."

"It's fine," Daryl replied with a shrug. "I mean…he _is_ cute."

Carol laughed, grinning at him. "That's the spirit!" she said gleefully. "You have to keep me updated, okay? Gossip keeps me _alive_."

"You got it," Daryl said. Figured as long as he was dealing in secrets, his sad love life and lack thereof was a small one to give away. He looked up when he heard someone calling his name and turned to see Michonne following them out of the restaurant, jogging to catch up.

"Daryl!" she said, a little breathless. "Good, I didn't miss you. Rick wanted to invite you to dinner tonight. He was gonna text if I didn't catch you."

Daryl blinked, eyebrows raising. "Dinner?" he parroted, hesitantly.

Michonne smirked. "Yeah, you know, food people eat at night," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

Daryl swallowed. "Uh. Yeah. Sure."

"Great!" she replied. "I'll let him know. I'm sure he'll text you anyway with the details. See you later!"

Daryl nodded, mute as she turned and walked back into the restaurant. When he turned back to look at Carol he could see her mouth twisted up in a humored smirk, like she was trying to hold her tongue. "Don't say a fucking word," he growled.

"I didn't! I didn't!" she replied, but he could hear the laughter in her voice as they got back in the car and drove back to the building.


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl returned to his apartment and was waylaid by Dennis coming out of his own place in a cloud of acrid-smelling weed smoke. He coughed, his eyes wide, and went still when he saw Daryl.

"Oh, hey," he said. "Got the word out. Couple people interested. I said I'd let them know when you were home."

Daryl nodded. "Thanks. Gonna be here 'til around seven. Anyone wants to come buy some shit I'm here."

"Cool." Dennis walked away down the stairs and Daryl shook his head, fumbling for his keys, and he let himself into his apartment. He dumped his bag on the floor and closed the door behind him, sighing heavily as he went back to his laptop.

He wasn't really sure what to do at this point. It was the beginning of the week and by the end of it he'd be in a different state. He pulled open a tab and brought up apartment listings but it wasn't going to be much good until he knew whereabouts in the Atlanta area he'd be staying.

His phone chimed and he took it out of his pocket to look at it. It was from Rick. _Michonne said you're willing to have dinner with us. What would you recommend in the area?_

Daryl bit his lip and wondered how good he was going to have to be at sign language before Michonne wouldn't be needed to act as translator anymore. Not that he minded her company, or wanted to have dinner with Rick alone.

No. Of course he didn't. That would be stupid. Rick was his boss and Daryl couldn't let himself entertain the thought of anything more. Not that he _wanted_ anything more – did he? God, how long had it been since he'd gotten laid that he was losing his shit over this guy he'd just met and barely knew? Rick could be an asshole, really, for all he knew. But Daryl hadn't really had any reason to think that aside from the pretentiousness he'd attributed to the man before finding out that the reason he never deigned to answer Daryl's calls was because he wouldn't be able to.

Daryl felt like an asshole. He put his phone down and ran a hand through his hair, thinking about the contract. If he was a better man he'd just come clean, say screw you to both Rick and Negan and make it on his own again. He'd done it before, he had enough in his savings to make it for a while before he needed another job. Maybe he could go back to school, fuck up his credit a little more with student loans, and wash himself clean of the whole thing.

But Rick was offering him Georgia. He was offering Glenn and Maggie a chance to create a life for themselves where they wouldn't have to worry about paychecks because between the two of them they'd easily be able to afford a house down there and start their family. Maggie's family was down there. Rick offered a chance to be close to them again. His offer to Daryl was way more generous than Daryl thought he'd ever see in his lifetime, and way better than he deserved.

His hand twitched and he shook his head, sighing heavily, and picked his phone back up.

_If you're willing to make the drive, there's a pizza place near me that'll make you think you've ascended._

Who the fuck typed like that? Daryl shook his head and hit 'Send' because fuck it, what's the worst that could happen? Rick clearly hadn't cared about Daryl's tone in their emails. He didn't care how Daryl spoke or acted when they were within physical proximity. He knew what Daryl looked like, now, and how he behaved or how he was expected to behave, and he still wanted to offer him a Goddamn job.

Too good for your kind, Dixon.

His phone chimed again and he picked it up. _Sounds great. Text me the address if you would. How's seven?_

 _Seven works,_ Daryl replied, and texted Rick the address. Rick texted back the confirmation and then Daryl was left alone with his empty apartment and his boxes with literally nothing left to do but wait for that time to roll around.

He went back to his laptop and pulled up another video on sign language, sitting down to watch. Then it was an hour later and his head hurt. He heard a knock on the door and stood, opening it to reveal Denise, Dennis and another block-mate of theirs. The girl's name was Rosita and she had just moved in with her asshole boyfriend downstairs. She raised an eyebrow when Daryl simply stared at her.

"Heard you were sellin' some shit," she said with a toss of her ponytail, and Daryl nodded and let her in. She eyed his furniture critically, lips pursed, before she reached into her cleavage and pulled out a pair of folded twenties. "I'll give you that for the couch."

"Done," Daryl said, pocketing it. "Need help movin' it down?"

"Please," she said, and Daryl nodded and grabbed one end. Dennis took the other and the girls hefted the middle, and they worked it out of Daryl's apartment and onto the landing.

"Which floor you on again?

"Second," she said. The stairwell wasn't the most furniture-friendly place but they managed to get it down and by the end of it they were out of breath. They put the couch in Rosita's apartment and he, Denise and Dennis trekked back upstairs.

There was another person at Daryl's door when they went back up. Daryl didn't know his name but the guy had a big smile and greeted them all like they were old friends. He bought Daryl's bookshelves and hauled them out of the apartment, waving off their attempts to help him. Daryl looked back around his apartment, it was so _barren_ now, even worse without the main furniture in it. He only had his desk, bedside table and bed left, really.

"Thanks for spreading the word," he told Dennis. "Anyone the rest of the week around who wants anythin', let 'em know and if I'm home they can have it."

"Sounds good," Dennis said, and then he and Denise left. Daryl went back to his desk and closed his laptop, bored for the first time in what felt like a while. His laptop had provided him most of the entertainment he needed when he was home but he spent most of his time when he wasn't at work sleeping, hanging out with his friends, or on his bike driving lazily around the roads that didn't have tolls.

It was almost four and he figured he should at least shower. He cleaned himself off briskly but took his time enjoying the hot shower spray, knowing he didn't have anywhere to be for a while. When he was done he contemplated the clothes he hadn't packed, saving them for a suitcase for the road, and uttered a curse.

He grabbed his phone and dialed the work number, punching in Carol's extension as the automated message began to play. Carol picked up on the fourth ring. "This is Carol."

"Carol, what the fuck am I gonna _wear_?" Daryl demanded.

She laughed, loud enough that Daryl was sure whoever might be out in the cubicles could hear her. "Oh! Pookie, you're a bright point in my day," she giggled and Daryl rolled his eyes.

"This is serious," he said, feeling stupid for even asking. It wasn't like he was trying to impress anyone, except this was Rick and Rick was going to be his new boss and he should try and make a good impression. He hadn't seen Rick and Michonne in anything other than suits and business professional clothes. He had slacks and button-downs but this was a Goddamn pizza place and not the kind of suit-and-tie affair that he was sure Rick was used to. Did Rick even bring jeans?

 _Fuck_ , if he wore jeans a t-shirts as well as he wore suits then Daryl was doubly-fucked.

He forced his thoughts away as Carol laughed again. "Just dress natural!" she said. "I doubt he'll judge you for wearing something comfortable. God knows if I could never wear a pantsuit again it'd be too soon."

That was a sentiment Daryl wholeheartedly agreed with. "I'm taking him to Coalfire," Daryl said. It was a fairly nice place but anyone wearing jeans and a t-shirt wouldn't be out of place there. It _was_ pizza, after all, which came with an implicit agreement that guests could wear whatever they wanted as long as it covered the important bits.

"Oh, I know! You still have that blue shirt you wore to Tara's birthday last year?" Carol asked. Daryl frowned, thumbing through his clothes and pulling out the shirt. It was long-sleeved and clung to his shoulders, a little too small but comfortable and well-worn.

"Yeah," he grunted.

"Wear that and black jeans. And your vest! And drive in on your motorcycle!"

Daryl frowned, straightening up. "The fuck's that gotta do with anything?"

"Daryl, _trust me_ ," Carol said, her voice low and mischievous. "That poor man won't know what hit him."

"Jesus Christ, Carol, I'm not trying to seduce the guy!" Daryl said weakly. Still, he found himself pulling the shirt from his pile of clothes and laying it out on his bed. He knew exactly which jeans Carol was referring to as well. "You're so thirsty."

"Damn right, and Rick will be too if you wear it," Carol replied. Then she added, smugly; "You're going to, aren't you?"

Of course he was. Because he _did_ want – what did he want? Hell, Daryl was only a man, and there _was_ something very satisfying about knowing he was being given a once-or-twice-over by eyes that appreciated what they saw. Hell, he didn't even know if Rick swung that way but if there was any outfit he owned that would prove it, this was the one. The blue was a deep color that matched his eyes and black jeans were always flattering.

The vest and the motorcycle might be a little much. But.

"I'll wear the jacket," he told Carol. "Not the vest."

"But the vest makes your shoulders look _insane_ ," Carol pouted.

"Yeah, well, let's not give the guy a heart attack on the first date," he said.

"Ooh! So it _is_ a date now?"

Daryl blushed and ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it, I'm hanging up now," he said. It _wasn't_ a date. A date didn't include three people except under special circumstances. And a date wasn't what this was because Rick was going to be his boss and Daryl didn't date his bosses.

But that didn't mean he couldn't have his fun, right? Even if Rick didn't swing that way, the outfit wasn't exactly inappropriate for the setting and it was comfortable. And if Rick _did_ find it inappropriate and just fired him, then Daryl could say a good 'Fuck you' to Negan and be out on his own and figure his own damn shit out like he always had. It was as good a win-win as he was going to get.

He bid his goodbye to Carol after a promise to text her _every detail_ when he was back home, and changed into his clothes for the night. He grabbed his damp towel from the floor and ran it over his head, drying his hair off as best he could. It was getting long again, hanging to his neck. He had thought about cutting it multiple times but had never had the time nor inclination to visit a barber, and after last time's disaster he wasn't going to try cutting it himself again.

He sighed and eyed the clock. It was only a little after five. He went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, hoping that one would be enough to calm the buzz of his nerves but he knew he couldn't get drunk enough that he couldn't drive.

He looked at his phone where it sat in his hand. He was on the floor now, no couch to sit on anymore, and idly opened it and looked through his list of contacts. They were pitifully few – he didn't save numbers much. He had Glenn's, and his old works, and Carol's home number. He had Rick's, and he had his landlord's, and he had the number for the prison Merle was stuck in but he hadn't called that one in a long-ass time.

If Negan kept his word, Merle would be out soon. Daryl wondered if he'd try to find him, or if he'd just accept his freedom and go off galivanting elsewhere, enjoying his women and drugs until he landed himself back in the slammer.

Daryl sighed, his thumb hovering over Rick's name as he toyed with the idea of texting him again. But that was crazy – they weren't together and Daryl had no business talking to him about anything non-work related.

He set his phone aside with another sigh and put his beer down on his other side. "Hello," he said, touching his fingers to his forehead in a kind of half-hearted salute as he recalled the sign. "Nice…to meet…you." He slid the fingers of his left hand down the palm of his right, then brought both hands together, forefingers extended, and then pointed to the imaginary other half of the conversation.

The signs came to him relatively easily and he smiled to himself, glad that his brain was proving useful in remembering the language even though he had only tried to learn simple conversation so far. He had used the sign for 'Hello' to Rick so Rick knew he knew it, but he didn't know if Rick would assume he was trying to learn everything else.

He tried to remember other words he learned, 'Again' and 'Sign slower' and 'Please' until they felt almost natural to do. Most of the videos he'd learned were just people saying random words, not much in the way of sentence structure, but he was sure he'd pick that up as he studied and practiced. And if Rick or Michonne were willing to teach him, all the better.

He finished his beer and kept practicing until his phone told him it was six thirty. He got to his feet with a grunt and left the empty bottle on his kitchen counter, before he grabbed his bag and put on socks and his black boots and grabbed his leather jacket. It had been Merle's at one point but it was his now.

He went down to the parking garage and grabbed his motorcycle, mounting it and bringing it to life with a rumble. He didn't wear a helmet or protective gear most days, figuring that when it was his time to go no amount of protection would save him. He revved the engine and peeled out of the parking garage, waving at the cluster of smokers gathered by the entrance.

He pulled out onto the highway. Coalfire was about twenty minutes from his apartment complex but traffic wasn't kind to him. Still, he managed to get there a few minutes before seven and circled the front to where there were smaller spots for bikes and motorcycles.

He saw Rick and Michonne at the front, haloed in the low light from the outside of the building. He waved at them and they looked up and waved back and then he pulled away to park. He dismounted the bike, dusting himself off and running a hand through his windswept hair, smiling as he approached the pair.

Rick's eyes were wide, raking down his body in something not exactly obvious but since Daryl was looking at him, he caught the motion. He signed something quickly to Michonne which made her laugh. She grinned at Daryl as he approached.

"Hi!" she said warmly.

Daryl smiled and said 'Hello', before he looked at Rick and signed the word as well. Rick's expression melted from wide-eyed awe to a warm smile and he signed back. He was wearing a brown jacket with fleece around the collar, and jeans that made Daryl realized his legs bowed slightly outwards and wasn't that just the most unfair thing in the world? Michonne was in jeans as well, a leather jacket the color of moss wrapped tightly around her that matched her purple headband.

Daryl's eyes strayed back to Rick's hands as they moved, unable to stay parted for long. Daryl recognized the words 'Nice' and knew when Rick pointed to Daryl he was being addressed.

He frowned, watching Rick's hands. After a moment Rick signed the same thing again, slower this time, and Daryl realized he was saying _Nice to see you_.

Daryl smiled, cheeks turning pink. "You too," he said, unsure how to sign that. Rick blinked at him, and then he looked at Michonne.

Michonne watched his hands before she nodded. "You can sign the same thing back," she said, and Daryl hesitated, his hands hovering just past his chest. He suddenly felt as out of place as though he was in a foreign country and stumbling clumsily through the language. As easily as the signs had come to him in the privacy of his own apartment, his fingers felt slow and it felt like Rick was seeing the equivalent of a three-year-old trying to speak.

Still, Rick was grinning at him like Daryl had just given him the best gift in the world. After a moment Michonne shivered and demanded they go inside and Rick stepped to one side, gesturing for Daryl to lead the way.

Daryl did go, pushing open and holding the door for Rick and Michonne as they walked into the warm restaurant. They were greeted immediately and seated in a small booth by the window. They took the same positions as their lunch the day before, Michonne penning Rick in on one side and Daryl taking the other.

He shrugged off his jacket and laid it on the booth next to him and didn't miss how Rick's eyes raked over him as he moved. He bit his lower lip and tried not to blush.

Rick's hands moved once Daryl put his eyes back on them. Daryl frowned, not recognizing even a word from it and Michonne grinned. "How long have you been riding?" she asked.

Daryl shrugged, putting his elbows on the table. He never looked at the menu here, always ordered the same thing. "Since I was a teenager," he said, licking his lips when he saw Rick was watching his mouth intently. Of course he was, but the gaze felt intimate and intense and Daryl fought the urge to duck his head. "My brother had a truck and we'd take it out so I could practice. Used to suck at it but now I prefer it over cars."

"Did you ever ride horses?" Michonne asked. Rick hadn't moved his hands.

Daryl nodded. "A few times," he said. "How about you guys?"

Michonne smiled. "Shane and his wife have a ranch outside of the city," she said. "Rick and I go there all the time." Her eyes flashed to one side as Rick signed something, his eyes moving between Michonne's mouth and Daryl's so that he could keep track of the conversation. "You should join us sometime."

Daryl raised an eyebrow. "Is he saying 'me' or 'us'?" he asked.

Rick blushed and Michonne grinned. "He's saying 'Us', promise."

The waiter came over and took their order. They all ordered personal pizzas – Daryl his normal meat lover's, Michonne got a pineapple and pepper monstrosity and Rick had plain pepperoni. Daryl was pleased to see Rick's nose crinkle up at Michonne's order (in a way that was definitely not adorable, not at all).

Michonne jabbed him in the side. She had started signing as she spoke so that Daryl could understand and watch the signs as well. Daryl appreciated that, because this was what had been missing from the videos – actual conversations and intricacies about the grammar and subtext of the language.

The dinner was…fun. As the night went on Daryl became more relaxed, comfortable under Rick's intense gazes even though they still sent a little fissure of warmth through him. He even made Rick laugh at one point – a soft, breathy sound that for a moment made Daryl forget all about things like propriety and jobs and fucking _status_. He was enjoying himself.

They didn't leave until almost ten at night, a hearty tip left for their waiter for his time and braving the cold air as they all pulled their jackets around them and stepped out into the night. Daryl was glad he'd brought his jacket and not his vest, despite Carol's protests. He'd freeze fucking solid on the drive home.

Rick signed that he was going to get the car and then went out into the parking lot, leaving Michonne and Daryl alone, their breaths misting in the cool air.

"This was fun," Michonne said, her eyes bright.

Daryl smiled. "Yeah. I like hanging out with you guys." Then, he bit his lip and continued; "What did Rick say, when I first came up. I saw him do it but I didn't recognize any of the words."

Michonne grinned and shook her head. "How about you figure it out for yourself," she said with a wink, and Daryl rolled his eyes but then Rick was there in the car and he didn't care push her for more in case Rick was watching. He bid her goodnight and signed 'Goodbye' to Rick, before he went over to his motorcycle.

He threw his leg over the seat and was about to turn it on when he felt a hand on his arm. He turned and his breath cut short when he saw it was Rick standing close to him, his eyes almost glowing in the light of the parking lot overheads and piercing Daryl where he was. Daryl licked his lips and straightened, sitting lax on the motorcycle seat.

Rick huffed a breath and withdrew his hand, before he began to sign slowly. Daryl frowned and looked down at his hands as they moved, before he realized that Rick was mouthing the words as well, his lips moving and little hints of noise escaping as he did so.

 _I had a good time tonight_ , Daryl finally made out.

Daryl smiled and felt his cheeks turn pink, ducking his head down before he lifted his gaze back up to meet Rick's eyes. "So did I," he said. "Thanks. For everythin' you've been doin' for me."

Rick smiled, before he huffed another breath. He signed something again, too fast and without moving his lips so Daryl had no idea what he was saying but he thought he might recognize some of the same signs from when he'd first seen Rick tonight.

He shook his head. "I don't understand."

Rick smiled and tapped two fingers against his temple. _I know_.

Daryl rolled his eyes and shoved playfully at Rick's chest until Rick huffed a laugh, stepping back onto the curb. "Goodnight, Rick," he said, and Rick signed another goodbye to him before returning to the idling car. Daryl turned on the motorcycle and followed them out of the parking lot, going right when they went left, and headed back to his apartment, the warm feeling in his chest making it so that the cold wind whipping against his face felt like absolutely nothing at all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late and it's short and I'm sorry.
> 
> Also consider that I am learning ASL at about the rate of Daryl right now and while I'm trying my best and consulting as much as I can I might not be 100% accurate so be gentle and patient with me :P

Daryl heaved the last of his boxes onto the U-Haul with a grunt, handing it off to Glenn to pack towards the back of the space. He wiped his forearm across his brow, wincing at the sweat, and gleefully took the glass of sweet iced tea Maggie offered him when he clambered away from the truck.

He took a sip, humming when he found it to be just the right kind of sweetness. Southerners always knew how to make it best. "Thanks," he said, and Maggie smiled at him and offered one to Glenn as well when he climbed out of the truck and sat down on the lip of it with a huff.

"That everything?" he asked, casting a critical eye around the parking lot around Daryl's place. It wasn't the most truck-friendly and he was glad Glenn had been willing to navigate his way in to load everything up. The trailer would have made it more of a bitch. As Daryl understood it, they'd haul his bike behind the U-Haul and Glenn would drive his and Maggie's car while Maggie drove the U-Haul. She was used to navigating the roads with bigger vehicles, having grown up on a farm.

"Yeah," Daryl said. "Don't got much. And I sold most of my big furniture."

Glenn nodded, accepting that and sipping on his iced tea. "Think our stuff'll fit no problem then."

"That's good."

"You excited?" Maggie asked, leaning against the side of the truck casually, one ankle crossed in front of the other, her arm resting casually over Glenn's leg. Daryl smiled and nodded and Maggie grinned. "Glenn's told me a little about the job, but not much. You got the inside scoop for me?"

Glenn laughed, like he was sharing an inside joke, and Daryl raised an eyebrow in his direction. "I _might_ have shown her the picture of Grimes he had on his LinkedIn page."

"He's hot," Maggie said with an emphatic nod. Daryl felt his cheeks flaming for a reason entirely separate from the heat.

"Am I going to be dealing with this for the rest of my life?" he complained, shaking his head. "Between you two and Carol, and Michonne, I'm gonna lose my damn mind."

"Who's Michonne?" Maggie asked, frowning.

"Rick's assistant," Daryl replied, "and translator for those who don't speak A.S.L. She's awesome, but…I don't know. I feel like there's this big inside joke between the two of them I'm not a part of. Not in a bad way," he was quick to add, catching the flash of worry on Glenn and Maggie's faces. "Just, like, there's this whole other language they can speak that I can't and sometimes I feel like they're saying things I really wanna understand."

"Like what?"

"Well…" Daryl swallowed, taking another sip of his drink. "We went out to dinner this week, and when I pulled up I saw Rick sign somethin' to her. And when I asked her, she said I should figure it out myself. Which is fair, I mean – I wanna learn." Maggie nodded. "But then Rick did it _again_ , right in front of me, _at me_ , and I don't know what it means."

"How did it go?" Maggie asked, and Daryl hesitated a moment, before he put the cup down on the lip of the U-Haul. He brought his hands up, trying to remember how the sign went and reverse it so that he could do it himself.

He put his fingers to his temple and then pushed them away with the flat of his hand, before touching his hand to his chest. He cupped both hands in front of him in a claw-like motion and pulled them towards him sharply, and then he lifted his right hand back up so his fingers were flat and touching the corner of his mouth, then up to his cheek. But that didn't feel right. Rick had extended his pinky as well and shook his hand, before pointing towards Daryl. He huffed a frustrated breath and shook his head. "Somethin' like that," he said.

Maggie frowned, before she pulled out her phone and lifted it so that the camera was facing Daryl. "Do it again," she said, and Daryl obeyed. Then she lowered her phone and brought up her text messages. "My aunt Patricia knows a little sign language. I'll see what she has to say about it."

Daryl nodded, feeling a weird combination of anxiety and excitement over the idea that she might have the answer. It was killing him, because try as he might it was almost impossible to look up a sign and find the meaning from it, rather than looking for a word and the corresponding sign.

Maggie's phone went off immediately and she looked at it. "Um…okay. What did his face look like when he did it?" she asked, looking up at Daryl for an answer.

"Um…" Daryl bit his lower lip. Truthfully he hadn't been looking at Rick's face that much, since his eye was naturally drawn to the movement of his hands and Rick's mouth hadn't been moving when he signed to give himself away. "He looked…happy, I guess? Just like really happy. Intense. I dunno."

Maggie nodded and communicated that back to Patricia. Then her phone started ringing.

"You're on speaker," she said, answering the call and holding the phone out. She shifted her weight, weight on one foot, arm folded under her chest as she held the phone out so everyone could hear.

"Hello!" came a chipper voice from the other side, an older-sounding woman with a thick Georgia accent. Daryl found himself smiling immediately, reminded in the back of his head of old gossip circles and church gatherings that he'd seen on television. He got the impression this Patricia was one of those kind women who always had food for the local kids that happened to her house after school and kept candles burning so her house always smelled of lavender.

"Hi, aunt Patricia," Maggie said with a grin. "Excited to see us?"

"Oh, dear, your daddy's been goin' crazy preparing the house for y'all, and I've never seen Beth so happy. When will you be arriving?"

"This weekend," Maggie said. Her eyes flashed to Daryl and she gave an apologetic shrug. "What'd'ya think of the signs?" she asked.

"Well, it's a little difficult to say," came the reply, and Daryl tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. "But there are a few things that are obvious. Who signed that to your friend there?"

"Our future boss," Glenn offered, along with a "Hi, Patricia!"

"Glenn! Good to hear your voice. And your boss, huh? Hmm…" The phone went silent for a long time, long enough that Daryl was starting to feel anxious again. "And he definitely signed it to…to your friend there?"

"What does it mean?" Maggie asked, frowning.

"Well, I'm not sure if it's accurate, but there were a couple signs there that I recognized. Puttin' your hand up like that, then out, means 'I don't know'." Daryl nodded – that much he already knew. _I know_ and _I don't know_ were some of the first signs he learned. "Then there's 'want', which is when you cup your hands like that and bring it to your chest. Then there's…'kiss'."

Daryl's eyes went wide.

"Touching your fingers to the corner of your mouth and then your cheek means 'kiss'. And an extended pinky and shaking hand is used to emphasize, as well as how hard they signed 'want'. So I'd reckon that new boss signed 'You don't know how badly I want to kiss you', or something to that effect."

Daryl felt like he couldn't breathe. His eyes were wide and fixed on the phone like it might suddenly burst into flames. Maggie was grinning, and he swallowed hard.

"Thank you!" she sing-songed. "I'll see you this weekend. Love you!"

"Drive safe, dear!" Patricia replied, and then Maggie ended the call.

The trio stood in silence for a long, _long_ while, and then Daryl was aware of Glenn making a choked-off noise. He looked at the other man and found Glenn almost doubled over, his hand across his mouth to stop his laughter escaping. When Daryl looked at him he caved, bursting out into loud laughter and slapping his hands down on his thighs.

"Oh, oh _shit_ ," he gasped, wiping at his eyes which had started to tear up from the force of his laughter. "He _signed_ that to you?"

"Twice," Daryl replied weakly, running a hand through his hair. " _Fuck_."

This was bad. This was so, so bad – Rick wanted to kiss him. Rick wanted to _kiss_ him. And probably more, and Daryl would even let him because Rick was hot and sweet and adorable and _God Dixon you are so fucked._

"Oh shit," Daryl said, running his hands through his hair and leaning against the edge of the U-Haul. "This is bad."

" _Why?_ " Glenn asked. "He likes you, you like him. God, I fucking _called_ it."

Maggie was watching Daryl closely, and she cocked her head to one side and frowned. "What's wrong, Daryl?" she asked quietly. "I thought you were gay."

"That's not the _point_ ," Daryl replied, sighing and lifting his gaze upwards. The sun was warm on his face, the breeze the right kind of light to allow unsuspecting folks without sunscreen to get a mean sunburn by the end of the day without realizing it. "He's gonna be my _boss_ , and I can't…"

"I mean, I'm not exactly an advocate of fucking your employer," Maggie said with a shrug, "but I think he's made it pretty obvious that he wants you to work for him before he even met you. I don't think this will jeopardize that. After all, it's not like he _knows_ you know what he said."

Daryl looked at her and she shrugged again. "He knew you wouldn't know what it meant and so he felt safe enough to sign it to you. That means he doesn't want to tell you yet. Maybe he never will act on it."

Daryl shook his head. "There's…there's so much more goin' on than that," he said, and Glenn looked at him with curious eyes. Daryl swallowed hard and looked away, rubbing his hands up and down his bare arms. "I gotta…tell you guys somethin', and you gotta _promise_ never to say a _damn word_ about it to _anyone_ , you got me?"

They nodded, eyes wide, and Daryl sighed and rubbed his hands through his hair again. "When…before I got fired, Negan called me into his office," he said, looking to Glenn. "He was pissed that _I_ lost him the Grimes accounts and he wanted me to convince Rick to come back to the company. He made me sign a damn _contract_ that I'd spy on 'im and get dirt on 'im and then convince him to come back. I…" He sighed and looked away. "I did some research. Rick's boss, this dick named Blake – famous Bible-thumpin' nutjob, homophobe, makes some o' them D.C. fucks look like reasonable people. If he found out, that'd be enough. I can't… _I can't_."

"Daryl," Glenn whispered, "how could you _agree_ to somethin' like that?"

"Negan _made_ me," Daryl hissed. "He threatened to fire Carol, Tara, the whole department. You know Tara ain't got no place to go, Carol's got a kid…I couldn't do that to them. It wasn't fair. So I agreed. But I can't tell Rick, and I can't tell anyone about it otherwise he'll fire them all anyway."

"Shit," Glenn said, shaking his head. "That's…that's fucked up, Dixon."

"I _know_ ," Daryl moaned, putting his head in his hands again. "I know, and I hate myself. And Rick is so fuckin' _nice_ and way too good to me already and I don't wanna hurt him or threaten him or _anythin'_ but what choice do I have?"

Their conversation was interrupted as Daryl's phone went off. He checked it and saw a flight itinerary had been emailed to him for tomorrow, with an option for early check-in. It was from Rick, along with the message _Our flight leaves at 1030 from Dulles. Michonne and I will be there at 9. Have a good night, Daryl._

Daryl bit his lip and swiped a quick thanks in reply, putting his phone away immediately after. "I should just quit," he said, closing his eyes. "I should just wash my hands of the whole damn thing and figure my own shit out. I would if I wasn't so scared Negan would just fuck everyone else over anyway."

_And if I wasn't so much of a Goddamn coward._

Glenn sighed, shaking his head. "Alright," he said, pushing himself down from the U-Haul. "Alright. It'll be okay," he said, and looked over at Daryl. "I'll…chill, on the whole Rick front. It wouldn't be fair, and you'd have to keep it a secret from everyone."

"I fucked up so bad," Daryl whispered.

"Yeah, you did, but I get why you did it," Glenn replied, his eyes sad. "We'll think of something. You got a copy of that contract?" Daryl nodded. "We can get a lawyer to look it over, make sure there's no loopholes or anything like that. We'll figure it out."

"Yeah," Daryl sighed. "Thanks."

Maggie clenched her jaw, shaking her head and scuffing her boot against the ground. "Well, this turned into a mess," she said lightly. Daryl couldn't help but agree. "That Negan guy seems like a real piece of work. Glenn would come home and tell me stories about his rampages and shit like that. I'm glad we're getting you guys away from him, even under the circumstances."

"I don't know if I'll ever be free of Negan," Daryl said. "I feel like I've sold my soul."

Maggie smiled, tightly. "Well, we'll just have to figure out a way to buy it back," she said. "Now, you boys owe me dinner. I want pancakes."

Daryl laughed. "There's an iHop about twenty minutes away, in Springfield. Closest one I know."

"By the theatre?" Glenn asked, and Daryl nodded. "Alright." He grabbed the drinks from the U-Haul and handed them to Daryl before hauling the door closed with a loud rattling sound. "We'll drop this off at our place and meet you there?"

"Sounds good," Daryl said, going to the dumpster to toss the plastic cups away before going to his motorcycle. The U-Haul led the way out of his apartment complex and Daryl followed behind. All that remained in his apartment was a suitcase packed with a week's worth of clothes and his laptop, and one of his favorite textbooks from his stint in college.

As he idled at the crossroads, waiting for traffic to clear enough for him to pull out, he got another text and pulled out his phone to read it. It was from an unknown number but the text introduced the sender as Michonne, and he smiled, adding her to his contacts before opening the message.

_You figure out what he signed yet?_

Daryl bit his lower lip, guilt threading through him again, and typed back _Yes_.

_You're a smart one, I'll give you that._

_Do you think he meant it?_

_Rick never says anything he doesn't mean._

Daryl sighed, nodding to himself. Well, at least there was that. Rick's affection for him, however misplaced and innocent, was genuine enough. The thought sent a little fissure of warmth through his chest.

_Don't tell him I know._

_Wasn't planning on it,_ Michonne texted back. _See you tomorrow!_

Daryl sighed, before he pocketed his phone and concentrated on driving to the iHop to meet Maggie and Glenn. His head was a whirl and felt heavy, but at least tomorrow promised Georgia, and a new future whatever that might hold for him. He couldn't help feeling at least a little optimistic, and more than glad to leave Virginia behind.


	7. Chapter 7

Daryl did not like airports. He didn't like all the people, he didn't like flying, and he sure as Hell didn't like being herded around like cattle and poked and prodded to make sure he wasn't carrying anything dangerous on him.

Glenn dropped him off at the airport after Daryl drove his motorcycle to his and Maggie's place so that they could walk it onto the U-Haul behind all of their stuff and tie it down. It was a tight fit after everything was said and done but they'd made it work. Glenn and Maggie intended to drive down on Sunday when the roads would be more clear. It was an almost twelve-hour drive to Maggie's dad's house without traffic. Daryl didn't envy them that either.

He had his suitcase and his backpack with his laptop and textbook slung across his shoulder. He went to the line for check-in and checked his bag before pulling out his phone to figure out where Rick and Michonne were. It was a little after nine, the traffic hadn't been kind to them.

 _Just checked the bag,_ he texted to the both of them. _Meet you at the gate?_

 _Sounds good,_ Rick replied, and Michonne texted the thumbs up emoji to him. Daryl smiled and steeled himself for the rigorous security checks. Things had gotten more lax in America but even then giving oneself an hour in the airport for a domestic flight wasn't completely out of the ordinary.

He got through security, already uncomfortable from the process. Airports had a particular scent and feel to them, like old air vents and sweat. Daryl could feel it coating his skin and he already wanted a shower despite having been in the building for less than half an hour by the time he made it to the gate.

He took a seat a little ways away from everyone else and pulled his laptop out, firing it up and connecting to the free Wi-Fi so that he could entertain himself while he waited for Rick and Michonne. Even then, the connection was too slow to do anything of meaning and he found himself idly playing Solitaire on his computer while he waited.

He knew immediately when Rick and Michonne were close. It was like a feeling, eyes on the back of his head, and he turned and straightened in his seat as he saw Rick and Michonne approach. Michonne had a small wheeled suitcase that she was dragging behind her, a dark purple and black color, and Rick had a backpack like Daryl's that he carried loosely by the top handle in his hand, the bag knocking against his leg as the two approached him.

He offered a smile and signed 'Hello' to them as they crowded him. Michonne sat across from Daryl on the other side of the aisle in a free seat and Rick took the spot two seats down from him, placing his bag on top of Daryl's and settling in his seat with a small sigh.

"Get through security okay?" Daryl asked, trying desperately to avoid looking at Rick for too long. He felt like Rick would look at him and know he knew what Rick had signed to him and Daryl needed to keep that a secret for as long as he could – he needed to take it to his grave, if all went well.

Michonne pressed her lips together and nodded. "I hate airports," she complained, and Daryl gave an agreeing nod.

Rick huffed a laugh and started to sign at her. "Rick likes them," she added.

Daryl raised an eyebrow in Rick's direction. " _Why_?" he asked.

Rick shrugged. "People watching," Michonne said as he signed, a small smirk on his face that Daryl shook his head at. Then Rick seemed to find interest in doing just that, his eyes roving across the crowds and threads of people as they meandered past.

Daryl had to admit there were some characters one would only see in an airport. He saw a mother herding around three shrieking children, speaking to them in rapid-fire Spanish. He saw a man dressed head to toe in red Hawaiian garb.

Rick's phone chimed and he pulled it out, able to feel the vibration, and frowned down at it. His face went dark for a moment as he swiped it open and typed out a quick reply, before pocketing the phone and shaking his head, looking to Michonne. He signed something to her that looked very rude.

Michonne's lips pressed together, this time in displeasure, and she rolled her eyes. "Can't it wait until Monday?" she asked, not bothering to sign. Rick shook his head and made another rude-looking gesture and she laughed.

"What's happening?" Daryl asked.

"Rick's boss wants us to come in as soon as we land," Michonne said with a guilty, sheepish smile. "He wants to meet you."

"Blake, right?" Daryl asked.

Rick blinked at him, and nodded. "Dude sounded like a real piece of work," Daryl added, already sensing that his distaste of the man was something shared in equal measure by his companions.

Rick snorted and shook his head, signing rapidly as Michonne spoke; "That's a nice way to put it. He's been the CEO for almost three years and in that time has managed to radicalize pretty much every member of the board. Luckily he can't fire us."

"Why's that?"

Rick smirked. "'Cause of the deaf thing." He shrugged. "And because we're the best."

Daryl smiled. "Hey, I got a question," he said. "Feel free to flip me off if it's rude." Rick nodded at him, making a gesture for him to continue. "You said you went deaf when you were seven." Rick nodded again. "So you…can talk, right? You know how."

He grimaced, knowing he wasn't saying it in the most sensitive way.

Rick huffed a laugh – this quiet, amused thing, and he grinned at Daryl. Daryl didn't look away from him as he nodded, and Michonne spoke as he signed; "Yeah, I know how to speak. At least how a seven-year-old might."

"Do you? Ever?"

Rick shook his head, frowning for a brief moment. "No. Not really. With Shane and Michonne, sometimes."

Daryl's eyes flashed over to Michonne, before he licked his lips and nodded. "Why?" he asked, unsure if he was overstepping his boundaries. Rick had been open with him so far but he was sure that there were things he preferred to keep to himself.

Rick shrugged. He didn't look offended by the question. "First, if I were to speak, there are some words I don't know how to pronounce. I don't want to unintentionally say something out of turn. And, well." His hands hesitated for a brief moment. "Sometimes it's just easier. People are more understanding if they assume I was born deaf."

Daryl frowned, nodding at the answer. "I guess," he said.

The announcer came over the intercom, telling them that they would start boarding for their flight soon. Daryl sighed and closed his laptop, pulling his bag out from underneath Rick's as he put it away. Rick reached out, picking at the opening so that he could see the title of his textbook. His eyes flashed with approval and Daryl bit his lower lip, feeling his cheeks get warm.

"I'm gonna grab some food before we get on," Michonne said, signing to Rick as well, and they both nodded as she stood, leaving her suitcase with them, and headed to the nearby newsagents to get something to eat.

Daryl shifted his weight, feeling strangely anxious when it was just him and Rick. He could feel Rick's eyes on him and looked up, immediately caught as he saw Rick's eyes locked on his face intently. Rick offered him a small smile that Daryl returned, thinking of how Rick had looked when he'd signed how much he wanted to kiss Daryl. He wondered how long it would take him to slip up, if Rick would sign it again and Daryl would give himself away with a blush. If, maybe, with one moment where they were alone and Daryl was a little more confident, if he'd sign something back and Rick would just know.

Rick's eyes dropped to his mouth, and then the man shifted his weight so that he could pull out his phone and Daryl nodded, doing the same. Rick's fingers moved over the touchscreen quickly, dragging across the keyboard to create his words;

_I think it's great you're trying to learn sign language._

Daryl smiled, before he set his phone down on his lap. Rick, after all, didn't have any trouble understanding him; "It's slow goin'," he said. "You'll have to be patient with me."

Rick grinned. _I think you'll pick it up quickly._

Daryl nodded, blushing.

_Are you excited to be back in Georgia?_

Daryl nodded again. "It's…home, you know?" he said, and Rick nodded. "I miss it."

_Where did you grow up?_

Daryl shrugged. "Some backwoods place," he said, shaking his head. "In King County."

Rick's eyes widened. _No shit. Same here._

"Really?" Daryl asked, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't think anyone successful would come outta there."

_It's home._

"True." Daryl shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "But I'm excited to be back."

_Do you have family there?_

Daryl shook his head again after a moment. "Nah," he replied. "Mom died when I was young, dad took off not long after. Just me and my brother for a long time, then I got a ride at G.M.U. and never looked back."

Rick let out a quiet, sympathetic sound. _I'm sorry,_ he said, but he must have seen how much Daryl didn't really hurt from it anymore. The day his dad left had been one of the best days of his life. His mom's death didn't even hit top three on the charts of his worst.

"Glenn and Maggie will be there," he said with a shrug when the silence stretched on just a little too long. "And you and Michonne, I think I'll do alright."

 _I think you will as well,_ Rick texted with a smile, and then Michonne returned to them with her haul of Diet Cokes and salt and vinegar chips. Daryl shook his head at her taste and she winked at him.

"You boys ready?" she asked, grabbing her suitcase. There was a line that had already formed at the flight stand and it stretched past the next two gates. Rick, Daryl and Michonne gathered their things and took their spot at the back of the line. It passed quickly, everyone wanting to get on and gone as soon as possible, and then they were on the plane. Michonne immediately claimed the window seat, leaving Daryl and Rick to vie for the aisle.

Daryl ended up taking the middle seat, ducking his head to sit down and sliding his back underneath the seat in front of him. They were one of the last ones on the plane and soon the flight attendants were running through their checks, closing the overheads, and the safety video started up.

"Figured you guys could at least afford First Class," Daryl said, teasing.

Michonne smirked. "First Class boards first," she replied. She had already made herself comfortable, pulling forward the parts of her headrest that moved and leaning her temple against it in preparation to nap. "You wanna have all those people crowding past you for half an hour, be my guest."

Daryl laughed. "You have a point."

The seats were crowded and the flight was full. As the safety video ended and the attendants sat, the plane lurched into motion, idling towards the runway. Daryl bit his lip and gripped his hand rests tightly.

Rick noticed, and nodded at his white knuckles. He brought his hands up to his chest, tapping lightly at his throat and chest and then pointed to Daryl. Daryl frowned at him and Rick did it again, his eyes going wide and afraid and Daryl realized he was asking if Daryl was scared.

He nodded, slinking down in his seat. "Don't like flyin'," he said. "Only been on a plane, like, twice in my life."

Rick let out a quiet, soothing noise, almost like a rumble. After a moment he rested his hand against Daryl's tight fist, pinky and ring finger smoothing out along the tendons in the back of his hand. Daryl shivered, feeling tense now for an entirely different reason.

He looked at Rick and Rick smiled, the expression supportive and encouraging. 'Relax', he mouthed, nodding down at Daryl's tense arms and fingers again. Daryl wasn't sure how in the Hell he was meant to do that when Rick was touching him – so light and gentle, but sending little electric tingles up Daryl's arm all the same.

He was so fucked.

He looked over to Michonne, hoping she might distract him with conversation, only to find that her eyes were closed and she had headphones in. He could hear the beat of her music coming out of them. "Traitor," he muttered to her, face turned away so Rick couldn't see, and he saw her smirk.

 

 

 

As anxious as he was, the flight was mercifully short and Rick didn't do anything more entirely unfair than keep his arm on the rest. Eventually Daryl was comfortable enough to give up his perch and let Rick have it. They played the beginning of _Despicable Me_ on the in-flight televisions but the movie ended prematurely as they began their descent.

As soon as the plane touched down and cruised to the gate and the overhead lights turned off, Rick took out his phone and powered it on, frowning when Daryl saw a myriad of texts from Blake light up the screen.

Rick sighed, running a hand through his hair, and offered Daryl a tight smile. Then they all got up and joined the queue of people leaving the plane and headed over to baggage claim. Rick had a suitcase that he had checked whereas Michonne seemed to have packed everything she needed in her carry-on. Rick's suitcase was black and only marked by a strip of red ribbon. Daryl grabbed his and they made their way out of customs and into the main part of the airport.

There was a car waiting for them, a young man with a sign reading 'Mr. Grimes' scrawled messily across it. Rick walked over to him and shook his hand and the man took Michonne's suitcase and led them over to a dark, heavily tinted car.

As they walked, Daryl pulled out his phone and texted Glenn and Carol that he'd arrived safely. No answer came immediately and he didn't expect it to, so he put his phone away and followed Rick and Michonne as they loaded their bags into the trunk of the car and took their seats.

Michonne and Rick sat facing the front of the car and Daryl took a seat facing the rear, and then the car pulled away.

Rick frowned and started to sign; "We're sorry you have to come with us right away. Blake is persistent when he wants something."

Daryl shrugged. "No big deal," he said, although truthfully he felt that if he never met the man it would be too soon. "Not like I'd be doin' anythin' else but watching bad cable in my hotel room."

Rick smiled. "I'm sure we can find some way to entertain you until you find a place of your own."

Daryl bit his lower lip, nodding, and tried not to think about all the ways he would be most entertained in Rick's company. _God, Dixon, get a fucking hold of yourself._

"You even been to Voodoo lounge?" Michonne asked.

Daryl shook his head.

"They have burgers there the size of your head," she said with a grin. Rick's eyes flashed to her to watch her lips move and he nodded along in agreement. "We should go after."

"Sure," Daryl said with a shrug.

They fell into companionable silence as the car rumbled on through midday Atlanta traffic, before it pulled up in front of a giant skyscraper just shy of the city center. It was big a black, the windows shining darkly in the sunlight. It looked imposing, and Daryl fought back a shiver, feeling very underdressed in his old jeans and t-shirt.

The Georgia heat was sweltering as he stepped outside and for a moment Daryl paused and let himself breathe in the feeling of Georgia as it soaked into him. It was strange, he thought he might feel a sense of rightness, of coming home once he touched down in his home state, but this wasn't home for him, not really. Home was dank heat and rain swept woods. It was mud on his knees and the scent of greenery and life in his lungs. Atlanta, while Georgia, wasn't the wild he had grown up in. He made a mental note to, as soon as he was settled and got his bike back, drive out towards King County and see if he could reclaim his sense of self there.

They entered the building, awash in cool, crisp air, and Daryl breathed deeply before he followed Rick and Michonne to the front desk. He signed in and received a guest pass. The attendee there was a petite black woman with solemn eyes and a kind face. Her nametag read 'Jacqui'. She signed 'Hello' to Rick and exchanged pleasantries as Daryl signed in, and then the three of them walked back towards the elevators.

They went up to the top floor and the doors opened with a 'Ding', revealing a foyer that had a deep blue carpet and cream walls. There were glass doors to the left and Daryl spied a door with the gold letters 'Rick Grimes' written on them, but then they turned right and passed through a hallway that led to a second door. All of the walls on this floor appeared to be glass except for one office at the very end. The door to the office read 'Philip Blake'.

Rick raised his hand and knocked and Daryl head a soft 'Come in' from inside. He frowned, wondering how Rick was supposed to hear, but then Michonne nodded and pushed the door open and Daryl wondered just how much Rick relied on her even in his home office. From the sounds of it, Blake wasn't the most accepting and accommodating man. He probably delighted in saying things behind Rick's back.

The office was…swanky. That was the only word Daryl could come up with. It had the same pretentiousness as a palace, tasteless almost with its giant mahogany desk and golden-framed artwork with a price tag that was probably higher than all of Daryl's debt combined.

There was a plush red chair and in it sat a man with slicked brown hair and a tight face. He had an eyepatch over his right eye. Daryl walked in after Rick and Michonne and the man looked up.

His face split into a wide, welcoming smile that showed too much teeth and he sat back in his chair, holding his hands out in welcome. "Rick! Michonne! Lovely to see you. How was your flight?"

Rick smiled tightly and nodded.

"Now where's the new meat?" Blake asked, his eye flashing to Daryl and narrowing as he smiled. Daryl was reminded of a shark. Blake stood. "Ah, you must be Daryl. Welcome to the fold."

"Thanks," Daryl said. It was impossible to feel at ease when he could see how tense Rick was. Maybe not on the outside, but Rick's irritation brushed along him like an aggravated cat and Daryl couldn't make himself relax. "Happy to be here."

Blake nodded, looking Daryl up and down. "I hope you live up to the praises Rick's been singing," he said, before he laughed. "Well, you know what I mean. Can't imagine him actually _singing_."

Daryl grimaced. "I won't let you down," he said. He felt Rick's eyes move to him, and then away. Stupid as it was, Daryl desperately wanted to reach out and touch him, soothe the tension from his shoulder with a light squeeze or _something_ because Rick looked more wound up than a spring ready to snap.

Blake sat back down and offered another shark-like smile. "I'll see you Monday," he said, and Daryl nodded. "Rick, I'd like a word alone, if I may."

Michonne pressed her lips together and reached out to grab Daryl's arm, herding him out of the office. Daryl wanted to fight, he didn't want to leave Rick alone in there, but Rick was an adult and clearly more than capable of handling himself.

Michonne let out a low, ugly noise when the door closed. "I _hate_ that guy," she said, glaring at Daryl and folding her arms across her chest. "I don't know why Rick puts up with him."

"Maybe he has to," Daryl said, thinking of Negan.

Michonne nodded. "The board won't fire him," she said, looking at Daryl again. "And Rick can't climb any higher than he is. I wish he would try, but he won't."

"Why do you think that is?"

Michonne shrugged.

"Maybe you should apply."

Michonne laughed. "In a heartbeat, if I could."

"You should," Daryl said. "Rick needs someone like you in his corner."

Michonne looked at him for a long moment. "So," she said, shifting her weight. "You figured out what he signed to me."

Daryl nodded and fought back the feeling of vertigo from the sudden subject change. "You promised you wouldn't tell him," he said.

"And I won't," Michonne replied with a nod. "I just…want to know what you think about that. My gaydar isn't the best."

Daryl blinked at her. "Well, I mean…" He cleared his throat and shifted his weight. "I am. But that doesn't matter."

"Oh, it matters."

"He's my boss."

"He's mine, too. You think if he swung my way I would say 'No'?"

"That's not the point."

"I know." Michonne sighed and shook her head. "I've just…known Rick a long time. I don't want to see him get hurt."

"I have no intention of -." Daryl cut himself off, licking his lips before he could lie. "I mean… Yeah. I like 'im. But he's my boss. End of story."

Michonne nodded. "Okay," she said.

"Do you think he'll keep doing it?" Daryl asked. "Signing that stuff? If I pretend I don't know?"

"Probably," Michonne replied with a shrug.

"I don't know how to do this without hurting him, then. He needs to stop. Without knowing I know."

"I'll do my best," she said. "But I want you to know that I like you. Friendly-like. I think you'll be a good fit for us here." Daryl smiled weakly. "I just don't want anythin' goin' bad here. I know it doesn't seem like it but Rick took a big risk parting with Negan and hiring you and Glenn."

"We're good workers," Daryl said. "Won't find a complaint there."

"I know that," Michonne murmured, sighing. Then the door opened and Rick stepped out. He looked aggravated but the expression quickly melted into something more neutral as he saw Michonne and Daryl look at him. He shook his head. "Well! I'm starving. Voodoo?"

"Hell yeah, I wanna see these burgers."

Rick smiled and nodded, the expression warm and affectionate. He pulled his hands to his chest, both thumbs up, and leaned them towards the elevator. Daryl knew that sign.

_Let's go?_

"Yeah. Definitely."


	8. Chapter 8

Voodoo lounge was little more than a hole in the wall kind of place. There was graffiti on the outside and across the windows, giving the innards a gritty, badly-lit effect that wasn’t helped much by the dull, low-hanging lamps above every table. There were no booths, every table was a high-raised bar table with different amounts of stools clustered around it. The music wasn’t loud but it was rock music.

There was a plaque that was huge and black when they first entered. There were ‘rules’, which basically amounted to not being a dick, don’t be on your phone when someone’s trying to take your order, and for the love of God tip your server. Daryl liked that – he’d had his stints in the serving industry and knew how much it sucked to get a bad table.

They were seated by the hostess. The staff were wearing jeans and comfortable-looking t-shirts that sported the name of the place as well as ghostly images and masks. It was all very Louisiana stereotype but Daryl liked it. This place seemed like one of the places where everyone had fun even though they were working.

They sat at a small table and the hostess handed them their menus before walking away. It wasn’t long before a waitress came up to them, wearing a loose black top and jeans and comfortable sneakers. Her long, dark hair was tied up in a sloppy bun, and her shirt stretched out over the big swell of her stomach. She was heavily pregnant to the point where Daryl wouldn’t be surprised if she often got offers to help her out and get her off her feet.

Rick smiled at her, the tension from the meeting with Blake melting off of him as soon as he saw her. _Hi,_ he signed, and then spelled out her name: _L-O-R-I._

She smiled at him, shifting her weight. “Hey, Rick! Michonne. And…” She looked at Daryl with a raised eyebrow. “Tall, dark stranger?”

“Daryl,” Daryl said, offering his hand. She took it and grinned at him. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you,” Lori said, before turning back to Rick. “You guys have to come take Shane off my hands, _please_. He hasn’t shut up since you guys left.”

Daryl blinked, the name sending a flicker of recollection through him. Shane was the name of Rick’s friend – he remembered Rick mentioning spending his childhood with Shane. And he has a ranch with his wife. Daryl’s eyes caught the glint of silver and diamond on Lori’s finger and he abruptly realized who she was.

Rick grinned. He pointed to himself, and then mimicked the texting motion and pointed to Lori, before he put his pinkies and thumbs up on both hands, and then flattened his left hand, palm down, and made an arch with his right, fingers pointing down. _I’ll text you tonight._ Daryl recognized those signs.

“You better,” Lori said with a smile. “Alright, what’s everyone having?”

They ordered, Rick getting a classic bacon cheeseburger and fries, Michonne ordered a mushroom and swiss, and Daryl ordered the ‘Triple Bypass’ – a burger with fried onion strings, egg, bacon and cheese because there was nothing better than adding more meat to meat. He saw Rick give an approving smile when he ordered and ducked his head, thankful that the low light could hide his blush.

“So, that’s Shane’s wife, I assume?” Daryl asked when Lori took their menus and walked away to put their order in with a promise to return with water and sodas.

Rick nodded, smiling softly. His expression was relaxed and affectionate as he thought of his friend. “We’ve all been friends for ages,” Michonne said, signing as he did so to catch Rick’s attention and also help Daryl figure out the signs for each word. “I met Rick and Shane and Lori in college, I was a freshman when Rick was a junior.”

Rick nodded again, starting to sign while Michonne recited for him; “I’ve known Shane for forever. He met Lori when we graduated college and they got married when Lori was done with school. She’s great, I love them both to death.”

Daryl smiled. It was nice to see Rick relaxed and happy again, thinking of his friends and family, rather than the stormy expression he’d worn when leaving Blake’s office. He couldn’t imagine what Blake might have said since he didn’t seem like the kind of guy to even bother learning sign language, so Daryl had to guess that the conversation had been pretty one sided.

“So they live on a ranch?” he asked, and Rick nodded. “What does Shane do?”

“He works from home most of the time,” Michonne said, Rick signing along. “He’s a forensic accountant.”

Daryl’s eyes widened. “Really?” he asked.

Rick nodded. “I think you two would have a lot to talk about.”

Daryl couldn’t help but agree. Although finance had never been specifically in his goals or desired career path, he hadn’t minded working with people when it came to figuring out what happened to their money when he’d been working for Negan. With his skills and what he’d managed to learn in school before having to drop out he was sure it wouldn’t be a difficult leap to that kind of career.

Lori came back with their drinks shortly after. Her hair sat in wisps about her face like she’d been sweating and she looked flushed. Daryl fought the urge to offer her his chair – she was working, after all, and seemed like the kind of woman who took a break when she damn well wanted to.

She set them on the table and tucked her tray under her arm, smiling at them again. “So, Daryl, how do you know these guys?” she asked brightly.

Daryl cleared his throat, ducking his head. “Um, I’m gonna come work for Rick,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Used to work for one of his business partners and Rick made a better offer.”

“Yes, he’s very generous,” Lori said with a grin that seemed to suggest more than what her words said on the surface. Daryl couldn’t imagine what, though. “When do you start?”

“Monday.”

Lori blinked, cocking her head to one side. “Well, congratulations,” she said with a smile, before she looked over at Rick. “I’ll be back with your food when it’s out.”

Rick smiled, signing _Thank you_ and spelling out her name again. Daryl frowned, remembering vaguely that the sign for Michonne or Rick’s name – or even his – hadn’t been spelled out, but seemed like a gesture all on its own. Maybe there were common enough signs for _Rick_ or _Richard,_ but certainly not _Michonne_.

“Why did you spell her name out?” Daryl asked, nodding towards Rick’s hands. “You don’t do that for my name, or Michonne’s.”

Rick blinked at him, before he pressed his lips together. His eyes ducked away almost shyly, like he was embarrassed. Michonne reached out to put her hand over Rick’s so that he didn’t feel compelled to sign back and then she smiled at Daryl.

“Usually it’s polite to sign out someone’s name when introducing themselves or meeting them for the first time. When someone has been around the deaf community for a while or is close to a particular group, they might get assigned some other gesture that refers to a physical characteristic or something notable around them.”

Daryl nodded, frowning, and Michonne shrugged. “Lori isn’t really part of the community, even though she’s Rick’s friend her name is short enough that spelling it out isn’t a problem.”

Daryl licked his lips and looked over at Rick, who was earnestly studying the cocktail menu like he was doing his best to ignore Daryl and Michonne. “I have a name,” Daryl said. Michonne hummed and nodded, smiling in something sad and warm at the same time. “My name ain’t that long either.”

“No,” Michonne said, shaking her head. “If it’s any consolation it isn’t too personal a gesture. It’s just the sign for ‘Man’ or ‘Boy’ with the ‘D’ to give them your first initial. That’s a pretty common practice.”

“Okay,” Daryl said with a nod, feeling a little better about that, at least. It wasn’t like Rick was writing fucking poetry about his eyes or something like that. Michonne smiled at him and sat back and Rick looked up, apparently determining that it was safe to rejoin the conversation. It felt weird speaking about someone right in front of them, knowing they couldn’t hear.

He offered a small, shy smile and Daryl returned it. Rick bit his lower lip, before he looked over to Michonne who smiled at him as well. Lori brought their food and refilled their water glasses but it was starting to get busy so she had to leave and couldn't stick around to talk to them.

The food was delicious and Daryl ate quickly, finding that his hunger kicked in at the first bite and his stomach reminded him with a hearty kick that he hadn't eaten all day. Michonne ate half of her burger and finished her fries and Rick cleaned his plate as quickly as Daryl did, sitting back with a sigh when his plate was done. Lori came over to clear their spots and offer them dessert which they declined, and then Rick paid the check and they all stood up to leave after Rick made one more promise to text Lori later that day.

The sun had started to set by the time they left and Daryl sighed, breathing in deeply. He checked his phone to find an update from Glenn and Maggie that they had started their drive and would likely to spending the night in Greensboro.

Daryl bit his lip. He needed to start looking for a place to say. "Ugh," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I hate apartment hunting."

"Not going to get a house?"

"My credit's too fucked for that, and I don't have enough in savings for a down payment right now, even in Georgia."

Rick frowned, but nodded. _Hopefully that'll change,_ he signed and Michonne repeated it for Daryl's sake.

"Yeah," Daryl said, smiling but internally grimacing at the thought of buying a house. He had never in his life entertained the idea that he would be able to – he didn't have enough shit to fill a house anyway, and the places down here were too big for one person in his opinion. Maybe he'd go scouting for trailers or something like that but for now an apartment seemed ideal.

He shifted his weight and looked around. There were people ambling around the street, couples and families out on a Saturday night in Atlanta. Cars drove by slowly, mindful of the pedestrians, and the skyline of Atlanta stretched out beyond like a dark, glittering beacon. He was _here_. He was _home_.

"Will you guys drive me to my hotel?" he asked, and Rick smiled and nodded, heading towards a cab stand. They climbed into one and Michonne sat in the front to give directions and instructions to the driver.

Rick and Daryl sat in the back seat. It was cramped, not big enough to fit three people comfortably so he understood why Michonne had taken the front seat, but now it was like on the airplane and Daryl was too aware of the space between Rick and him and how small it was. Rick's heat was comfortable and close and Daryl wanted to lean into it.

Rick looked over to him, before he pulled out his phone and Daryl nodded towards it, pulling his out as well so that they could speak.

_The room I got you is good for as long as you need it. There's no rush._

Daryl smiled. "I know, but I don't feel good about wastin' money. I'll get a place soon as I can."

Rick smiled at him. He seemed to hesitate over what to type out next, holding his thumb against the delete button several times before he sent his next message; _I'm really happy you decided to come with me, Daryl. It's such a huge change and I want you to know that I appreciate it._

Daryl nodded. "I…gotta ask," he said, looking at Rick and biting his lip. "Why me? I know you only dealt with me when I worked for Negan but you didn't even know me and you said you wanted to offer me a job when we just met."

Rick blinked at him, his cheeks turning pink, just a little, enough to blame on the heat of the car. But Daryl knew better, because he knew what Rick had signed to him. It felt like he was spying on the man. He should come clean, about everything, before he started his job and before Rick got too deep in whatever he was feeling to be able to pull away. He didn't want to see Rick get hurt.

 _You always knew what you were doing_ , Rick typed back, his reply a series of texts.

_When I spoke to you, I knew you were capable._

_You never bullshitted me. If you couldn't fix something you told me. No one ever did that before._

_I don't like people who will weasel around an answer. There's too much politics already. I needed someone who wouldn't just be a 'Yes' man._

_I guess when I finally met you, I had already decided._

Daryl looked at the texts, his eyes wide, and felt a coil of guilt and anxiety in his gut at Rick's words. Rick thought he was honest, and honorable, and wouldn't fuck around with him. Which was all of the things Daryl was _not_. He wasn't honest, he was a mess, and he was working for the Devil while playing the part of a good man.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He should just _tell Rick._

"Rick," he said, and then his phone started to ring. He grimaced in apology and answered it. It was Glenn. "Hey, what's up?"

"Daryl! How are you, man? Can we talk?"

Daryl shifted so that he was looking away from Rick so that the man couldn't read his lips. Rick, to his credit, put his gaze forward, offering Daryl some measure of privacy. "Yeah, I can talk. What's up?"

"…Carol got fired."

Daryl straightened, eyes widening. " _What?_ "

"Yeah. Tara just told me. She never got your number and I told her I'd tell you. Negan just walked in and fired her on the spot. Thought you'd wanna know."

"He…he can't _do that_ ," Daryl said, his voice weak. "He can't just – he fuckin' _told me_ he wouldn't fire anyone if I…" Daryl stopped, letting out a low growl. "I'm gonna rip him to fuckin' pieces."

"Just wanted to let you know, man. I'll talk to you later," Glenn said, sensing Daryl's rage and the need to hang up. Daryl did immediately after wishing Glenn and Maggie a good night, and then he typed in the main line for the old office and was greeted by Eugene. "I need to speak to Negan, _now_."

"Who is this?"

"This is Daryl," Daryl snarled into the phone. "Get Negan on the line."

"He's in a meetin'. Oh! Mister Negan. Daryl's on the line for you."

Daryl heard Negan's laughter and gritted his teeth, before he heard the phone pass over. "Daryl, my man! How goes it?"

"Don't play that game with me," Daryl hissed. "I know what you did to Carol."

"And what did I do, exactly?"

"You promised me no one would be touched if I…" Daryl bit his lip, his eyes flashing to the back of Michonne's head, then over to Rick. Neither of them seemed to be listening to him but Daryl didn't know that for sure.

"Well, have you done what I asked you to?"

"It's only been a _day,_ you fuckin' psychopath."

"Easy now, I'm still technically your employer." Negan laughed. "Well, _one_ of them. And I can make both of these arrangements end real quick. I have Grimes' phone number on speed dial."

Daryl felt his chest go tight and cold. The car rolled to a stop in front of a hotel and Michonne got out and Daryl knew he could no longer speak freely. He climbed out of the cab and heard Michonne tell him that they'd already arranged for his bag to be dropped here and that his room was ready.

"This ain't over," Daryl hissed, and Negan laughed again before the line went dead. Daryl growled, gripping his phone tightly and tried to resist the urge to fling it across the street and into traffic.

Rick regarded him with an anxious frown, signing quickly; _Are you okay?_

Daryl shook his head and slid his phone into his pocket before he could do any damage to the innocent thing. "Just…personal shit," he said, the guilt lodging tight behind his throat and making it difficult to speak. "Thank you for dinner. Thank you for everything."

Rick smiled, but it was small and worried. Michonne was looking at him oddly too, her eyes narrowed and Daryl couldn't fight the feeling that she _knew_. She knew everything – she must have heard and known who he was talking to and Daryl couldn't face either of them right now. He swallowed hard and shook his head again.

"I'm gonna call it a night," he said, and Rick nodded in understanding. He signed _Goodnight_ and Daryl returned the gesture, before he nodded to Michonne and retreated into the hotel room. The bellhop greeted him with a warm 'Evening, Mister Dixon!' and handed him his room key. Daryl took it and fled towards the elevators.

When the doors closed and it started moving Daryl collapsed against one of the walls, his hands running through his hair. He was shaking with rage, trembling with anger, and resisted the urge to punch a hole in the wall.

He took out his phone and called Carol.

"Hi, Pookie," she greeted. She sounded tired.

"Is it true?" Daryl asked, hoping that she would lie to him. But she had never lied to him.

She sighed. "Yeah, it's true," she said. "Happened this afternoon."

"He can't just fire you," Daryl spat. It was a Saturday above all else, too, what the fuck were any of them doing in the office? It was a nine-to-five job. That had been one of the perks. "He _can't_."

"Why can't he?" Carol asked, sounding resigned.

Daryl bit his lip and realized she didn't know about his arrangement with Negan. Only Glenn and Maggie knew. Daryl growled when the doors opened and he went to his room, opening the door to find his suitcase placed against the closet door, a mint on his pillow, and a little welcome packet on the bedside table.

"He just can't," Daryl said. "I'm gonna fix this."

"Don't see how you can, Daryl," Carol said. Daryl heard the high-pitched voice of her daughter calling for her. "I have to go. Call you in the morning?"

"Yeah," Daryl said, hanging up, and then he did fling his phone across the room. It hit the comfortable-looking desk chair and fell to the seat and then immediately lit up. Daryl huffed another irritated breath and walked over to it.

It was from Rick. _Are you sure you're okay?_

Daryl sighed.

_Yeah, I'm fine, promise. I'm sorry I left so abruptly._

_I understand. Get some rest._

_I will. Good night, Rick._

_Good night, Daryl._

Daryl dropped his phone again and then went to his suitcase, pulling out the manila folder that held the contract he'd signed with Negan. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, he was too riled up and angry and it was still too early in the day, so he resolved he would pour over the contract again and again. If Negan had violated it then it would be null and void and Daryl could walk away from it a clean man.

He didn't hold much hope. Negan was a snake, and he wasn't stupid. Still, Daryl had to try.


	9. Chapter 9

No arrangements regarding the personnel and resources that the recipient has access to will be altered in any way.

_No arrangements regarding the personnel and resources that the recipient has access to will be altered in any way._

"He can't just fire you," Daryl growled to the contract, the edges crinkling as he gripped it tighter and tighter. "That fucked up the agreement. He _can't_." Of course, he would have to have a lawyer look over it still, but it looked null and void in his own damn opinion and if it was enough to make sure he could rip this thing in half and turn his back on it completely, then all the better.

It was almost four in the morning and Daryl was exhausted but he didn't feel like he could sleep. His mind was blurred and whirring like a broken ceiling fan that just wouldn't stop spinning. His eyes ached and he set the contract down with a sigh, smoothing a flat palm over it.

It was too early to call Carol, or Glenn and Maggie, and definitely too early to try and get any shut-eye but he still had to try. Tomorrow was Sunday, one more day of freedom before he was to enter back into the working world. He had a single pair of slacks and a button-down shirt for his day at the office, relying on Glenn and Maggie to bring enough of the rest of his clothes to make a decent rotation for his wardrobe but he still had to go shopping, most likely, to get stuff that was on par with the attire Rick and Michonne seemed to wear.

He groaned, sitting back and staring up at the ceiling. It was an ugly thing, that mess of textures like the tiles had started to melt that had been so trendy back in the late 2000's. He rubbed his hands over his face and stood up and went to the mini-bar in his room. He felt bad racking up Rick's tab like that but nothing would be open for him to get real liquor and he vowed to pay Rick back for the undoubtedly outrageous hotel bill he was sure to rack up before he got his own place. Or maybe he could arrange to have a portion taken out of his paycheck – not like he couldn't afford it, now that he was under both Negan's _and_ Rick's generous salary.

He peered into the little fridge intently and pulled out a couple of the small bottles of bourbon, undoing the first and tossing it back in a single gulp. It burned his throat and he gasped, wincing at the taste, and opened another as he carried the rest back to the bedside table. He ate the mint off the pillow and washed it down with a second mini bottle, and then kicked off his shoes and shed his clothes, sliding between the cool sheets with another sigh.

The alcohol was already starting to warm his chest, just shy of the back of his heart, and he propped himself up on the mountain of fluffy pillows and glared at the television screen as though demanding it to turn on and show him the answers to the meaning of life. "Fuck," he muttered, opening and downing the third bottle he'd brought with him. It would be enough to get him looser and more relaxed and hopefully calm enough to grab some shut-eye.

His eyes trailed to his phone, still sitting innocuously on the table by the contract. Who would even be awake right now? No one he know, and no one he cared to speak to. He shook his head and slid down more in the bed, turning on his side and burying his face in his arm. The air conditioning unit by the window kicked on right on cue and the low hum was soothing, the white noise drowning out his thoughts.

He closed his eyes and sighed again, letting the alcohol numb him. Here, in the quiet, he could let himself think about something other than the crushing guilt and the terrible ulcer he was undoubtedly developing from all this stress. Here he was, back in his home state, and getting paid to do something a lot closer to what he wanted to do with the opportunity to go back to school, and work with people he actually liked, and he was moping around like a teenage girl who'd just gotten stood up for her first date with a boy.

"Fuckin' pathetic, Dixon," he muttered to himself, and snorted when it came out sounding like Merle's voice.

His mind kept replaying the last week, over and over in his head. Rick, his commanding presence when Daryl had first met him, how he'd taken up the entire space in a room just by being in it. And then turning soft, his sweet reticence and his blush and how happy he'd looked when Daryl had agreed to move to Georgia for him.

It was stupid. Daryl wasn't the kind of person to uproot and move for anyone – his last relationship had been years ago but he'd dated the guy for almost three years and had never even considered spending the night, but here he was, no better than a kept man, no better than some side piece business men kept in a penthouse on the other side of town from their wives.

Did Rick have a wife? A husband? A boyfriend? Daryl had no reason to believe that except for the fact that it was _Rick_ so of course he had someone in his life. But Michonne hadn't seemed to give any indication that Rick was off the market -.

 _Stop it_ , Daryl growled to himself, grabbing a pillow and putting it over his head. It didn't _matter_ if Rick was taken or not, or how pretty his eyes were or how nice his hands looked whenever they were signing something. His hands were big and smooth and looked so strong and capable and -.

" _Fuck_ ," Daryl growled, glaring at the darkness of the pillow. It didn't _matter_. Rick was his boss, and not only that, his boss that he had legally bound himself into blackmailing – which was illegal anyway, wasn't it? There was no way for this to end well for Daryl, that was for damn certain. He'd either end up on his ass, blacklisted from both the companies, or in jail if things got really bad and escalated in the entirely wrong way.

Negan could fucking ruin him. One text, one email, and Rick would know the truth, but Negan wanted Rick back on his side so he had to keep his silence for now and Daryl had to play ball and keep his head down and try and make it out of this with his skin.

But it wouldn't matter. Even if he didn't get fired, even if he didn't go to jail, he couldn't bear to see the light in Rick's eyes go out, he would hate himself forever if Rick ever looked at him the way he looked at Blake, his eyes the same blue of the stormy oceans and his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth had to ache.

Daryl's head was starting to burn and he rolled back onto his side, stifling a yell into his pillow. "Goddamnit," he hissed, punching the poor, helpless thing into submission, and huffed, lifting his head and glaring at the innocent air conditioning unit. At this rate he was going to destroy all the poor inanimate objects in his line of sight.

He needed air. Decided, he shoved himself from his bed and got re-dressed, before he grabbed his room key and headed out of the hotel. Atlanta was silent, even on a Saturday night there were barely any people out on the street with him. It was cold, too, the wind whipping down the streets and he ducked his head against it and nodded to the doorman as he was greeted with a quiet 'Good morning'.

He stopped, just shy of the door, and turned back. "What's your name?" he asked.

The man smiled, his teeth shining in the lights. "Bob Stookey," he said cheerfully, nodding again at Daryl.

"Anythin' open this time of day, Bob?" he asked.

Bob thought for a moment. He had a kind face and even when thinking he was smiling. His presence was calming. "There's a bakery that opens in a few minutes," he said after a while. "Two blocks down to your left there, first right, then another three blocks right before you hit the turn-off for the highway. One-way roads, most of the place. Right by a parking garage. Named….someone's name, I think. Can't remember. But it opens early and has great scones. The peach ones are my favorite."

Daryl smirked. "Thanks," he said, and turned back away, down the street in the direction Bob had pointed him.

It was called _Zoe's Kitchen_ , and Daryl walked in right as a girl was at the front and unlocking the doors. She greeted him with a smile and handed him a little takeaway menu and he stood by the door, looking it over for a moment before he walked up to the counter. She was a small, chipper blonde, and her nametag read _Amy._

"Two peach scones, if you have 'em ready," he said.

"Great! For here or to go?" Amy asked.

"To go, please."

She nodded and bagged them up and he paid for them, taking the little bag and walking back to the hotel. Bob greeted him with a smile. Daryl smiled back and rifled through the bag, taking out one of the scones and handing it to him.

"Here," he said. "If you can eat on the job."

"Oh! Well, thank you," Bob said, taking the scone daintily and giving another nod of thanks. Daryl took his out as well and bit into it. It was delicious, just crunchy on the outside with a lemony glaze and filled with sweet peach filling. It was crumbly but not so much that it fell apart in his hands. For a while he just stood with Bob while they ate, and then licked his fingers clean.

"You mind if I smoke here?" he asked.

"Go ahead," Bob said, still with that wide smile on his face. Daryl had done his fair time in the service industry and knew a fake smile when he saw it, but Bob's looked wholly genuine, like he really took delight in standing at the doorway at the abandoned hours of the morning. Daryl crumpled up the scone bag and shoved it in his pocket before taking out a packet of cigarettes and he lit one, taking a deep inhale, and leaned back against the glass wall by the revolving door of the hotel. "You new in town?"

Daryl smirked. "You know a lot of people stayin' in hotels that ain't?" he asked.

Bob laughed. "Some business people commute to the city for the week," he replied with a shrug, wiping his thumb across the corner of his mouth where some glaze still lingered. "But not a lot of settled people are wandering around at this hour."

"Guess that makes me a rollin' stone," Daryl replied dryly, earning another laugh from Bob as he took a second pull from his cigarette. "You want one?"

"Nah, I quit last year. Gotta keep on the wagon," Bob said with a shake of his head and a smile.

"I guess," Daryl said. "I should quit, too. How do you do it? Resist the temptation?"

"A man can have as many vices as they please," Bob said with a sage nod. "Some people quit smokin' and start gamblin'. Some people turn to sex, or coffee, or telenovelas. Smokin' your only vice, friend?"

"Not even close," Daryl replied with a slight smirk. He took one more drag before he sighed. The nicotine, he was finding, wasn't nearly as calming as speaking with Bob was, and the alcohol was sitting low in his stomach now and making him feel warm despite the wind. He dropped the half-smoked cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his boot. "Thanks for the conversation."

"Thank _you_ for the scone!" Bob replied. "Have a great day, friend!"

Daryl smiled. "Daryl," he said, and held out a hand. "Name's Daryl."

"Have a good day then, my friend Daryl," Bob said brightly, shaking his hand. "May you find the vices worth having."

Daryl laughed, shaking his head as he went back inside. He hadn't killed much time, but between the walk and speaking with Bob he found that it was almost five in the morning which was a fairly decent hour to be awake for some people. There was a magic moment between two and five, where the clubs were closing and those that had gone to bed were set to stay there until morning, and the early risers hadn't quite greeted the day yet. Daryl saw a woman heading out of the elevator dressed to go jogging and he nodded to her before stepping into the elevator and riding it up to his room.

He got back and checked his phone, blinking when he saw there was a text from Rick. It was timestamped for about ten minutes ago. _Are you awake?_

Daryl bit his lip, thumb hovering over the keypad, before he typed out _Yes_.

_Shane and Lori invited Michonne and I for a ride at the ranch this morning. If we were to go we'd need to leave by six. Would you like to join us?_

Daryl considered for a moment, biting his lip again and catching his reflection in the mirror. He looked as tired as he felt, haggard and pale, but he was sure it wasn't anything a shower and some coffee couldn't fix. He had smelled it brewing on his way up the stairs and knew that the complimentary breakfast would be put out soon.

_Yeah, I'm game._

_Excellent. We'll be by at six to pick you up. I'd suggest wearing something you're comfortable getting dirty. Shane has a new colt that likes to kick up mud._

Daryl laughed, imagining Rick and Shane trying to wrestle with the animal and getting mud all over themselves as they chased it around a paddock.

 _I'll see you then_ , he replied, and then stripped off to go shower so that he would have as much time as possible to pump himself full of caffeine and be ready to function for the rest of the day. The shower was warm and the water pressure was fantastic, beating down on his shoulders with a personal vendetta, as though determined to wash Daryl clean down to the bones. He hadn't packed any shampoo or body wash in his carry on, too gun-shy of the horror stories he'd heard of those types of things exploding at the change in altitude on airplanes, so he used the complimentary stuff offered by the hotel. It smelled of lemongrass and citrus.

He came out of the shower to a text from Glenn telling him that he and Maggie were due to arrive at Maggie's father's house in the early afternoon. Daryl replied to let Glenn know he'd gotten the message and that he'd likely swing by to get his motorcycle and more of his clothes. Glenn replied with a thumbs up emoji.

Then it was almost five-thirty and Daryl rushed down the stairs after getting dressed and ready with everything he'd need. He wore his older, more comfortable jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved black shirt with his leather jacket over it. He was first in line for the coffee and grabbed three cups' worth, sitting down at the table to wait for Rick and Michonne.

They came in right at the stroke of six and Rick signed 'Hello' before excusing himself, citing the need to use the restroom before they left. Michonne sat down and sent a meaningful look at Daryl's cups.

"Long night?" she asked.

Daryl nodded. "How long is the drive there?"

"About three hours," Michonne said, and Daryl blinked at her. "On nights when Lori works she usually stays with a friend of hers who also works at Voodoo. She only does it when she wants, really. Shane makes more than enough to support them and of course soon she'll have the kid and probably never go back to work."

Daryl smirked. "Sounds like the life."

"You never had kids," Michonne says with a shake of her head. "Trust me, she'll be screaming for an excuse to leave the house by month three."

Daryl laughed, looking up with a smile when Rick returned. Rick smiled back at him, shy and excited all at once, and raised both his thumbs and pointed them towards the door. _Shall we go?_

Daryl nodded and downed his last cup of coffee before pushing himself to his feet. "Lead the way, cowboy," he said with a gesture to the door, and Rick huffed one of his quiet laughs, his cheeks turning pink as he turned away.

Michonne grinned. "Oh, I'm totally calling him that from now on," she said, and Rick reached out to tug on one of her dreadlocks, earning a shriek from her and a half-hearted shove. Daryl laughed, shaking his head, and followed them out of the door, waving to Bob as they passed the doorman.

"Hello and goodbye again, Daryl!" Bob called, waving, his smile bright and wide. There was a car sitting in the valet section and they walked towards it – a silver Ford Fusion, a good car for such long commutes. Daryl assumed it was Michonne's car. She got in the driver seat and Rick got in the passenger side and Daryl climbed in the back.

"You got anythin' against country?" Michonne called as he got in.

Daryl winced. "What kind of country?"

Michonne laughed and started the car and immediately Toby Keith started blaring out. Daryl groaned, and wondered how Rick could put up with someone who had such ridiculous tastes in food and music. Then again, the music probably didn't bother him nearly as much as it bothered Daryl – just a mess of bass coming from the speakers in the door that he could nod his head to.

"When you drive, you get to pick," Michonne said and Daryl rolled his eyes because she knew damn well that his mode of transportation didn't support passengers.

Unbidden, a flash of Rick riding his motorcycle crossed his eyes. Rick pressed up tight behind him, his hands on Daryl's waist or hips to keep himself steady as they weaved through the cross country roads of Georgia with nothing but the wind and the scent of the wild whirling around them. He shifted his weight and cleared his throat.

"I guess this is Hell," he said with a dramatic groan as Michonne turned up the volume on the radio, and she laughed and pulled the car away from the hotel.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Thankfully Michonne wasn't as much of a sadist as Daryl had feared, because after a few tracks of country music she switched the station to rock, which was much more satisfying to listen to. Daryl found himself singing along for a few of the songs he knew, glad that Rick was deaf and couldn't hear how awful he sounded singing, and Michonne was just as off-key as he was.

They drove for a long while and then Daryl straightened up as the country took over the city sprawl and they pulled off the highway, taking smaller, single-lane roads. He thought about taking his bike on them one day, hugging the curves and turns of the road. He used to love riding through the country roads when he'd lived here before and found himself eagerly awaiting the chance to do it again.

They crested a hill and Daryl leaned forward as Michonne started to slow the car. The farm in front of them stretched out like a lazy, sprawling cat, a patchwork of brown and green to signal the grass' recovery from a dry summer. There was a large, white farmhouse and a barn a little way away from it, and several fences marked off with white wood which looked freshly painted. There was a patch of dirt in a circle , ringed with metal posts and fences, in which a single black horse stood, and several others were grazing in the field next door.

Michonne pulled her car up next to a red truck parked underneath the shade of a massive oak tree and Michonne honked the horn twice before killing the engine. The black horse whinnied loudly as though in greeting, darting back and forth within his ring.

From the barn emerged a man and a young boy, just brushing teenaged years if Daryl had to guess. They were both dressed in jeans and already dirty and sweaty from the heat of the day, despite the fact that the sun had only been in the sky for about an hour. Daryl saw Rick's face break out into a wide grin and he knew that the man he saw must be Shane.

They got out of the car as Shane walked over to the black horse. "Yeah, yeah, we know, your favorite girl's here," he said, and the animal gave a snort. Shane rolled his eyes, which were a dark brown and sparkling with happiness, and he grinned as Michonne, Rick and Daryl approached.

Rick signed 'Hello', and then his name for Shane – the letter 'S' against his jaw in the shape of a smile, and Daryl immediately understood why. Shane had the classic salesman grin, but it wasn't smarmy or awkward. He could light up a room with his smile. Then, Rick signed 'Hello' to the kid, the letter 'C' next to his forehead like he had done with Daryl's name.

Michonne leaned over and whispered; "That's Carl, Shane and Lori's son." Daryl nodded, but couldn't help thinking that the boy looked a hell of a lot more like Rick than he did Shane. He had Rick's eyes, bright blue under his mop of brown hair.

Shane set down the saddle he'd been carrying over the top of one of the metal fences and walked over to them. He grabbed Rick's forearm and pulled him into a tight hug, but waited until letting go before he spoke; "S'good to see ya, brother. Knew Lori would get you over here."

Rick rolled his eyes, his hands moving fluidly as he signed; _I missed you._

"Same here," Shane said, then his eyes flashed to Daryl and he raised an eyebrow. "Lori told me y'all found a friend," he said. He wiped a hand over his mouth and then held it out to shake. "I'm Shane. Don't believe anything Rick tells you about me."

"Daryl. And only if you promise the same," Daryl said with a smile, earning a loud laugh from Shane. He stepped back and clapped his hands together.

"Alright, who's goin' ridin' with us?" he asked.

Rick smiled, and looked out to the other horses in the nearby field. One of them was a pretty white mare, her mane shaggy and matted with dirt. Another was a chestnut male – a gelding if Daryl were to guess, since the black horse was obviously a stallion and kept away from the females. The third was a skewbald, patches of brown and white marking him all over like he'd rolled in paint. He looked up when Rick looked over, whinnying softly in greeting. His eyes were mismatched, one blue where the white was on his face, the other a dark brown.

Daryl caught him looking and Rick nodded to the horse. He put his hands in front of him, palms flat, and moving them back and forth in something vaguely Kung-fu looking, before he put both fists together and then separated them again like he was showing bookends.

Daryl frowned, tilting his head to one side, and Rick grinned and started to spell it out for him. He did the sign after each word.

"…Troublemaker?" he hazarded, pleased when Rick's grin widened and he nodded vehemently.

 _He's mine_ , Rick signed.

"Not by choice, poor thing," Shane muttered, grinning when Rick glared at him. Then Rick walked over to the horse and Troublemaker snorted, walking over to him, and shoved his muzzle against Rick's hand, snorting gently, tail swishing.

"Alright. Michonne, you get Buttons, of course," Shane said, patting the saddle and walking away from where the black stallion was pacing back and forth along his pen. "And…Daryl?" Daryl nodded. "How experienced are you with riding?"

"Out of practice a long time," Daryl replied.

Shane nodded. "Alright. You can have Lola there, then. She's a gentle ride, won't give you any trouble. I'll take Frenchie then. Carl, you sure you don't wanna join us?"

Carl shook his head, looking sullen. "Got homework," he said, as though the weight of the world rested on this painful diagnosis. Daryl couldn't help smiling when Shane laughed.

"There's pineapple upside-down cake in the fridge," Shane said with a conspiratorial wink. "Don't tell your mom I let you have it."

Carl's eyes lit up and he grinned, before turning away and heading back towards the house. "You guys mind helping me get these guys ready?"

Michonne had already stepped into the ring with Buttons, shushing the horse quietly as he snorted and stamped, apparently eager to get going. Rick, Daryl and Shane left her with the animal and headed towards the barn to get more saddles and reins for the rest of the horses.

They returned and placed their saddles and bridles over the edge of the fence. Michonne had already tacked up Buttons and mounted him and was leading him in slow circles around the ringed paddock to work off some of his energy.

Shane licked his lips and whistled through his teeth, drawing the other horses' attention. Troublemaker snorted, walking straight up to Rick and Daryl hid a smile when Rick immediately offered him a mint from his pocket, sure that this is what had won him the horse's loyalty in the first place. Lola regarded Daryl with calm eyes as he bent down to go through the fence and walked over to her with a halter and lead-rope. He put the rope over her shoulder and she ducked her head, content to graze as he fed the first part under her muzzle and fastened the ear piece loosely behind her ears. He tugged on the lead rope and she walked over to the fence so that he could tie her there and put on the saddle as she grazed.

Soon they were all tacked up and ready to go. Lola and Troublemaker were the smallest horses. Shane held the other side of Daryl's saddle as he climbed on, only letting go when Daryl was settled with a firm grip on the reins.

"She's a good responder to legs and reins," Shane said, patting her shoulder as he made sure Daryl's girth strap was tight enough so that he wouldn't slide off. Daryl nodded. "She does like to graze, though, so she'll try at any opportunity to start eating if we stop."

Daryl smirked. "Thanks for the heads up."

Shane nodded, and went to check on Rick's setup before climbing on Frenchie. The gelding let out a complaining snort when Shane's weight settled on his back, ears forward as Shane gathered the reins up and let out a little click to get him walking.

They walked over to where the gate was and Shane leaned over to open it and let the three of them out. "Alright, ma'am, you think you're ready?" Shane asked, grinning over at Michonne when she flipped him off by way of response. She guided Buttons over to the gate in his ring and opened it, angling the horse so that he walked out. She left the gate open.

Lola seemed content to stand and wait for one of the horses to take the lead, and Daryl tensed up in shock when he heard, low and raspy; "On."

It was Rick's voice, and Daryl looked over to see Rick, one hand loosely settled on his thigh, the other holding his reins with way more slack than Daryl would have given his own horse. Troublemaker responded as though Rick had nudged him with his heels, head going up, ears forward as he started towards the front of the line, next to Shane.

Lola and Buttons walked side-by-side in the rear. Daryl was mesmerized by the soft, spoken commands Rick continued to give his horse. It was the first time he'd ever heard the man speak. His accent was thick, as though he'd never lost the strong way children talk when they're young and heavy with their accent. His voice was low from lack of use, almost a growl. His commands were short and sharp but it seemed Troublemaker had been voice trained and responded to each one as easily as a kick, nudge, or tilt of the reins.

He looked over at Michonne to see her smiling at him, this pleased and sly thing, and he blushed. "Don't say a fuckin' word," he muttered.

Michonne laughed. "What would I say?"

"You guys good back there?" Shane asked, looking over his shoulder as they started to walk down the little dirt pathway and onto a riding path that went into the trees at the bottom of Shane's farmland. The forest there looked thick and endless from up here.

Daryl raised his hand in a thumbs up. Lola had a steady gait and Shane was right – she responded to everything his unpracticed hands did and seemed content to follow behind Troublemaker and Frenchie, her head low to the ground to sneak some grass whenever Daryl let her reins get slack.

It wasn't long before his body remembered what it was like to ride an animal. His bike wasn't the same – unyielding metal and unthinking engine – and he kept having to remind himself to sit upright and not bend over Lola's neck, but he gradually became more comfortable in the saddle. The trees provided cool, welcome shade, and for a while the only sound was that of the horses moving steadily through the trees.

Then, the trees opened up to reveal a second field, unfenced, that stretched out far up in a hill and out of sight. Buttons gave a high-pitched whinny, rearing up a little as though wanting to leap forward, held back by Michonne's steady hand.

Shane grinned. "Don't let me stop you!" he said, and moved Frenchie to one side so that the way was clear for Buttons. Michonne grinned, sticking her tongue out at Shane, before she gathered her reins and grabbed a handful of the horse's thick black mane.

"C'mon, you demon," she urged, and Buttons snorts and took off at a fast gallop, up the hill and over the edge of it. Rick laughed – this loud, full thing, unlike the normal huffs he normally gave.

He nudged Troublemaker's flanks and said, very quietly; "Run". Troublemaker neighed, tossing his head, and started to trot, then canter, and then Rick leaned up in his saddle, high over the pommel, and Troublemaker shifted easily into a gallop and started to race after Buttons.

Shane grinned at them, before turning to look at Daryl. "You can run too if you're comfortable with it," he said. "The field goes on a little way beyond the hill before you hit trees again. My girl ain't stupid enough to go headfirst into a tree. Can't say the same for the others."

Daryl smiled, but shook his head. "I don't wanna end up on my ass," he replied.

"Smart man," Shane said. He clicked his tongue and Frenchie snorted, and started a slow walk along the edge of the field. Daryl urged Lola into place beside him so he was between the trees and Shane. "So, how did you and Rick meet?"

Daryl sighed. He should have expected something like this to come up. "I worked for the credit card processor for Rick's company," he said. "Rick sniped me, I guess. Offered me a job. Hated it there, loved Georgia, figured why not."

"Ah," Shane sighed. "I remember the days when I could just pack up and go."

Daryl raised an eyebrow. "Y'ain't that much older than me," he said.

"Nah, but I got kids. And a wife. Not that I'm complaining – Lori's the damn best thing to ever happen to me and she'll be the first to tell ya that."

Daryl smiled, warm at the affection he could hear in Shane's voice. "How old is Carl?" he asked.

"Almost eleven," Shane replied.

"That's a long time between kids," Daryl noted, trying to sound nonchalant.

Shane looked over at him, trapping his tongue between his teeth, before he nodded. "Wasn't planned that way," he said. "Wasn't planned at all, if I'm honest. Carl was, but not the new one. Happy accident." Daryl nodded, turning his face away. He couldn't shake the feeling that Shane knew what he was trying to get at, but Shane didn't give anything away.

They looked up as Buttons and Troublemaker crested the rise, cantering back down to join them. The horses were breathing heavily and shining with sweat, and Rick's face was flushed, his hair a mess from the wind. Daryl licked his lips and tried not to focus too much on that.

Rick slowed Troublemaker with a gentle 'Woah', bringing the horse to a slow walk that matched Daryl and Shane's mounts. He grinned and lifted his hand in a fist bump to Shane before nodding at Daryl.

His hands let go of Troublemaker's reins and Daryl abruptly understood why his horse was voice trained – Rick couldn't sign if he had to keep a hold of the reins all the time. _Would you like to run?_ he signed, gesturing back towards the field.

Daryl shook his head. "Should get more practice in first," he said.

Rick accepted that with another nod. Shane led the way to the other end of the field and around it, before they started heading back. The sun was high in the sky now and the heat had turned sweltering. When they returned, there was a third car and Daryl could see Lori with Carl, near a hose that was already spraying water.

Shane grinned and urged Frenchie up to a trot, heading over to her. "Hey, beautiful," he greeted, and laughed when Lori grinned at him and turned the hose up, splashing him with water.

"You think you're coming near me stinkin' and sweaty, you got another thing coming," she said.

"Damn, you're a cruel woman," Shane replied, but he dismounted French and led him back over to the field. Daryl and Rick followed suit and Michonne guided Buttons back to the dirt patch corral. Lori washed down all of the horses once the saddles and bridles were removed and they all went back to the barn to return them.

There was another pony there, a colt just as Daryl remembered Lori had mentioned. The colt was jet black with a single white stripe down his face and couldn't be more than a year old, but he was a giant.

"I have lunch if anyone's hungry," Lori said, and they went into the house to feast on the meal of roast chicken and steamed vegetables that she had prepared. They opened a bottle of wine for Michonne and Lori while Shane, Rick and Daryl opened a six pack of beers and started to drink.

After a while, when their bellies were full and the alcohol was warming Daryl presently, Carl came over and tugged on Rick's sleeve. "I have it DVR'd," he said, and Rick's eyes lit up and he stood, following the boy out of the dining room and into the living room.

Daryl raised an eyebrow and Michonne snorted. "Rick loves those _Train Your Dragon_ movies, or whatever it's called," she said, and Daryl blinked at her. "He and Carl watch it whenever he comes over."

"That's…" Really fucking adorable. Daryl swallowed. "Never seen the second one."

"You've never…" Lori's eyes were wide and she pressed her lips together and pointed towards the living room. "Get your ass in there and watch it."

Daryl raised his hands in surrender, thanked Lori for the meal, and stood and headed into the living room. It was comfortably furnished, with cream carpeting and a huge brown couch lining one wall, facing the television. Rick was sitting on one end of the couch, Carl leaning against him and fiddling with the remote as he got the movie cued up.

Rick looked at him and cocked his head to one side. "Lori said I should watch the movie," he said. "Never seen it."

"It's so good," Carl said. "Dad cries whenever they sing their wedding song."

Daryl blinked, momentarily shocked at the words. _Dad_? He looked back at Rick, who bit his lower lip and nodded sheepishly. He shifted his weight and fished through his jeans to find his phone and Daryl took his out as well, sitting on the other side of the couch as the movie started to play.

 _Carl is biologically my son,_ came Rick's first text.

_Shane and Lori asked me to be a donor for them because they were having a hard time getting pregnant._

_Thought Shane couldn't have kids._

The texts had a desperate air to them, like Rick was frantically begging Daryl to understand. Daryl looked over at him and saw Rick's face pinched with worry, his normally bright and expressive eyes dark and anxious.

Daryl offered a weak smile, before turning back to his phone. _Kinda figured it was something like that. He has your eyes._

Rick smiled, hugging Carl tightly to his side as the boy settled down on the couch between him and Daryl. _We never hid the truth from him. He knows he's my son, but Shane is his father._

_I get it, Rick. Really. Don't gotta explain yourself to me._

_Still._

A pause, then Daryl's phone chimed again as Rick texted him once more.

_I know it's not a normal situation. I guess I just don't believe in hiding things I'm not ashamed of._

Daryl swallowed, a hard knot of guilt sitting in the base of his throat.

_I get it. Thank you for telling me._

Rick smiled, the anxiety melting from his face like snow in summertime. Daryl smiled back and they settled down to watch the movie. They watched it with subtitles. Rick did cry at the wedding song. Carl fell asleep right before the big fight between the alpha dragons, too warm from the heat of the day to stay awake.

Rick looked over at Daryl towards the end of the movie, his smile soft and affectionate, and he signed something to Daryl – so quickly Daryl wouldn’t have had a hope of understanding it if he didn't already know what Rick was trying to say. If he didn't already recognize it and knew the meaning.

_I wish you knew how badly I want to kiss you._

Daryl forced himself to frown, to fight down the giddy elation he felt in his chest at seeing Rick sign something like that to him so openly. It felt like a bit of poison already, knowing something that Rick didn't know he knew. He bit his lower lip and shook his head.

"I don't understand," he said, the lie tasting sour on his tongue.

Rick nodded, sighing through his nose, and tapped the tips of his fingers against his temple. _I know_.


	11. Chapter 11

There was no time difference between Georgia and Virginia, but Daryl still found himself unable to sleep past five in the morning that Monday. He used to be a night owl, up at all hours until the nine-to-five job and school had forced him to adopt 'normal' sleeping hours for the sake of his health. Rick hadn't told him what his official hours would be at his new job, but he imagined they were a lot more flexible. He could probably swing some sort of thing where he went into the office at six and left at three or something like that so that his afternoons were free – especially if he managed to get back to school to finish his degree.

He went downstairs but it was too early for the complimentary breakfast. Bob was outside so he went out and the man greeted him with a bright smile.

"My friend Daryl!" he said, shaking Daryl's hand.

"Hey man," Daryl greeted. "I good to smoke here again?"

"Be my guest," Bob said, grinning. "How's the morning treating you so far?"

"Pretty good. Been a while since I was up this early more than two days in a row." Daryl shrugged, lighting a cigarette and pocketing his lighter. "You happen to know anything about the real estate game around here?"

"Sorry, no," Bob said with a shake of his head. "I pretty much live at the hotel. They give discounts to employees."

"Really? That's nice."

"Doesn't suck," Bob said. "My girlfriend's trying to get me to move in with her but I've been spoiled by my commute, or lack thereof."

Daryl smirked. "Where does she live?"

"A few blocks away. Apartment building. I guess my only suggestion would be to try there."

"They pet friendly?"

Bob nodded. "You have an animal?"

"Nah, but I like cats. Think once I settle here I'll get one. Or a dog. Or both."

"Get both. Something to walk in the mornings and something to cuddle with at night," Bob said with a nod. "Or something to wrestle. My mama always had big dogs that I'd wrestle with when I was a kid. Those are the best kinds."

Daryl nodded in agreement, taking another drag of his cigarette. He flicked the ash away and watched it fall to the ground. His phone chimed and he took it out of his pocket to see a text from Glenn.

_We got in late last night, everything's pretty much unpacked. Keeping your stuff in the spare bedroom for now whenever you want to come get it. And your bike's ready._

Daryl smiled. _Thanks, man. Let me know how much I owe you._

_I'll ask Maggie._

_You ready for the day?_

_Not even a little. Excited though._

_If you come get me we can ride in together._

_Sounds good!_

Daryl texted him the address of his hotel and put his phone away, figuring Glenn would get to him around eight and they could negotiate Atlanta traffic together. He hadn't expected Glenn to be up so early – the man always looked tired and came into work every day with a giant thermos of coffee, but maybe he was just as excited and nervous as Daryl was. Today marked the beginning of a new way of life for both of them.

Bob had stood in companionable silence with him while Daryl had his conversation with Glenn and smiled when Daryl looked back at him. Daryl hummed and took another inhale from his cigarette. "Got a question for you, Bob," he said.

"Yes?"

"Your girlfriend – how long you guys been dating?"

Bob blinked, and looked away as he did his mental calculations. "Almost…two years now, I think. Three if you count the courting process."

Daryl smirked. "There was a process?"

"She fought me a bit, at first," Bob said with a fond smile. "All in good fun, you understand. Ain't like I stalked her or acted all creepy or nothin'. She's one of them ladies you gotta earn the love from, but damn is it worth it. She's everything I want in life." Daryl smiled, looking down at the floor. He dropped his cigarette half-smoked and scuffed the butt with his shoe. "You got anyone special?"

Daryl shook his head.

Bob snorted, letting out a hum. "C'mon, friend, I thought we had the kinda bond where we didn't lie to each other."

Daryl looked up, one eyebrow raised.

Bob grinned. "Workin' here long as I have, one develops natural gifts. You put me in a room full of couples, or people who like each other, all shuffled up, and I can matchmake them perfectly. It's the…pheromones, or somethin'. Can smell it."

Daryl blushed. "Don't got no pheromones now," he said.

"Aha! So I _am_ right," Bob said with a wink. "It's that man you were with yesterday. The skinny guy, isn't it?"

Daryl's eyes went wide – he was sure that Bob would assume he was attracted to Michonne, at the very least. He snorted and shook his head and pulled out another cigarette. "Damn, you're good," he said. "You should do Vegas weddings."

Bob grinned, slapping his thigh with a crow of delight. "I knew it!"

"It ain't nothin'," Daryl said. It was safe to talk about things like this with Bob, who didn't know the intricacies of Daryl's fucked-up work and love life, or how fucked-up it was destined to become. "Attraction, sure, but nothin' else. No one special for me."

"We're all human," Bob said sagely. "And if there's any vice worth having, my friend, it's the ability to love."

Almost as though waiting for its cue, Daryl's phone chimed again and he pulled it out of his pocket to show a text from Rick. He smiled, putting his second cigarette in his mouth and swiping his phone open so that he could read it;

_I will be in the office from nine. Please come straight to my office so Michonne and I can introduce you to the HR manager and get your paperwork filled out. Then I can show you your desk and assignments. Glenn should also be starting today – he'll be working with our tech department and I'll have Michonne show him where he'll be. Looking forward to seeing you, Daryl._

_Glenn is going to pick me up and we'll drive in together. Should get there for nine,_ Daryl texted back.

_Excellent. Check in with Jacqui at the front desk and I'll come down to meet you when you arrive. See you at nine._

Bob was smiling when Daryl put his phone away. "See? You look different when you're talking to him."

"Everyone keeps saying that."

"Hey, when everyone is saying it, either we're all wrong or you are. What's more likely?"

Daryl sighed. "I ain't arguing with ya, I'm just sayin' it won't work. He's my boss now."

"Ah," Bob said, stretching the word out so that it lasted several beats. He nodded again. "Now that does complicate things." Daryl sighed, glad that Bob at least seemed to share his sentiment. Everyone else hadn't seen Rick being his boss as a deterrent but Daryl knew better than to shit where he ate. Office romances just didn't work, especially in his world. "Is he your direct supervisor?"

Daryl nodded.

"Shit," Bob said, shaking his head. "Well, good luck with that, my friend. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes."

Daryl scoffed, stubbing out his second cigarette. "Thanks," he said dryly. "Guess I should go get ready for work."

"Have a good day, Daryl!" Bob said with a small wave as Daryl went back into the building. He'd come out in lounge pants and an old t-shirt and so he dug out his slacks and button-down that he'd packed for the job, rolling his eyes at himself when he realized he'd picked the same color blue as Carol had told him to wear for his date-not-date. Rick had seemed to like it well enough. Not that it should matter.

He came back downstairs to grab some breakfast and then went outside when Glenn texted him that he'd pulled up. He grinned when he saw his friend, sliding into the passenger seat and pleased to find that the car was already comfortably cool.

Glenn gave a low whistle after Daryl gave him the address and he programmed it into his phone, and pulled away from the hotel. "Man, those digs are swanky. You payin' for that?"

Daryl shook his head. "Rick insisted on puttin' it on the company dime until I found a place," he said. "Bob – the doorman – told me about an apartment complex not too far from here. If it's close enough to work I might look into it."

"I tell ya, the commute from Maggie's is kinda killer. The sooner we find a house, the better," Glenn said, slamming on the brakes and letting out a low curse when a light changed from yellow to red faster than he's anticipated. The lights in Virginia were much more forgiving.

"How was the drive?"

"Uneventful. Maggie spent most of it talking about your contract. And Carol. You find anything that'll work?"

Daryl sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wanted another cigarette already and thought back to Bob's advice about vices. He really should quit. He shook his head when Glenn looked over at him. "Nah. But I think he might have voided it by firing Carol. I hope so. I want this to be over as soon as I can get it. Got no fuckin' clue what Negan even expects of me but the whole point of this was to stop him firing people. If he goes after Tara or anyone else…."

"I get it, but man, you can't go after this with that kinda headspace," Glenn said with a sigh.

Daryl looked at him curiously.

"I mean…you can't save everyone. And you shouldn't look at it like that. I mean…I liked everyone there. Mostly everyone. They were my friends. But we don't work there anymore, which means we don't really get a say in what happens to the company, you know?"

Daryl shook his head. "I can't look at it like that," he said. "Technically I'm still Negan's guy."

"And you will be forever until we get this straightened out," Glenn said. "Maggie's gonna make some calls, she said she'd try and find a lawyer we can go to on our lunch break. I'm hopin' she comes up with somethin' 'cause the sooner we're out of this, the better."

"You're just sayin' that 'cause you want me and Rick to get together," Daryl said with an exasperated sigh. "Between you, Carol, and Michonne, I'm gonna lose my fuckin' head." He leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes – he was starting to get carsick with the way Glenn drove, stopping and starting and constantly rerouting on his phone. He let out a low laugh. "I'm gettin' my bike after work today. I'm gonna show up every day all sick if you keep driving me."

"Hey, it's not my fault the streets here are worse than D.C.," Glenn complained, glaring at a car as it shimmied past them into the space in front despite Glenn's forward momentum and forced him to slam on the brakes again. "And I'm gonna look into the trains or somethin'. I hate driving here almost as much as V.A."

Daryl let out a quiet laugh, but kept his eyes closed so that he could try and focus on his churning stomach. He was sick with butterflies as well – this was the first day of the rest of it. Negan's dark presence loomed over him like a storm cloud but there was a promise of daybreak on the horizon and Daryl ached for it. Even if it meant Rick found out the truth and he lost everything, Daryl just needed it to be _over_. It felt like torture, caught in this limbo with no way out. He wondered if he'd ever sleep easy again.

They eventually pulled up in front of Rick's building, ten minutes before nine. They parked in the lot adjacent to the building and went inside and Daryl let the way to the front desk where Jacqui was signing into her computer.

"Hello," she greeted brightly, clearly recognizing him. She slid the sign-in book over. "Until you get your badges you'll need to sign in here every morning and every time you come back from lunch."

"Got it," Daryl said, signing his name and then passing it over to Glenn. He felt a change in the air and froze, turning his head to see Rick and Michonne entering the building. Rick was back to his expensive and (in Daryl's opinion) incredibly flattering suit, and Michonne was wearing a dark grey pantsuit with a purple blouse underneath. Daryl smiled, signing 'Hello' at Rick.

Rick's eyes lit up and he signed back an eager greeting, smiling as he approached Daryl and Glenn with Michonne at his side.

He offered his hand to Glenn to shake, which Glenn took meekly. Daryl remembered how Rick had first appeared to him, commanding, with his presence taking up the entire room. He bore that same countenance now, like he was Lord and Master of all he surveyed. This was Rick Grimes, CFO, not the Rick that cried at _How to Train Your Dragon_ and teased his friend about her taste in food.

Rick signed a polite 'Good morning' to Glenn, and then Michonne took over translating; "Nice to officially meet you, Glenn. Please follow us upstairs and we'll get your paperwork started."

Glenn nodded, smiling, and he and Daryl followed Rick and Michonne to the elevators.

They went to the floor second from the top this time and exited, heading to an office with the words 'Morgan Jones, HR Department' in gold on the frosted glass. Rick raised a hand to knock twice and a shadow passed behind the door before it opened.

Morgan Jones was an older black man, his face deeply lined and his dark eyes calm and sharp. He smiled when he saw Rick and Michonne. "Rick, hello," he said, and then looked at Daryl and Glenn. "These the new hires?"

Rick nodded, and Morgan stepped back so that the four of them could enter the spacious office. It was lined with binders labelling different departments and had filing cabinets with personnel files. There were several chairs lined up in front of his desk.

Rick tapped Daryl on the shoulder and Daryl turned so he could see Rick sign; "This will probably take most of the morning. When you're done, come upstairs and see me and I'll get you started. And Glenn, you'll be reporting to our IT Head, Gareth. He's on the seventh floor and knows to expect you."

"Thank you," Glenn said, and Daryl nodded and signed 'Thank you' as well, making Rick smile. Rick hesitated for a moment, his eyes dropping to Daryl's mouth, and then he gave another nod and exited the room swiftly, leaving Daryl, Glenn, and Morgan alone.

"Have a seat, boys," Morgan said, gesturing to his chairs. "It's pretty standard here for new hires to fill out a consent for background checks and get a drug test. I'll make sure to talk you through everything and we'll go over all of the legal stuff before I send you on your way."

He sat down behind his desk and pulled out two manila folders and slid one in front of either of them along with a black pen. "Let me know if you have any questions."

Daryl pressed his lips together, opening the folder to the first page with the company logo and the words 'NEW HIRE PAPERWORK' printed boldly on the page. He looked over at Glenn, who was smiling, his eyes alight with anticipation.

"To greener pastures," he said, saluting with his pen, and Glenn laughed.

"You got that right."

 


	12. Chapter 12

After they were done, it was almost noon. Glenn went down to meet Gareth and Daryl went upstairs as Rick had ordered him to do. The elevator doors pinged for him and he went down the hallway towards Rick's office.

He hesitated outside of the closed door, unsure of what to do. It felt stupid, but – would Rick hear him knocking? Could he see Daryl's silhouette through the frosted glass?

He bit his lower lip and looked around. He couldn't see any sign of Michonne to help him out. Without anything better coming to mind, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to text Rick;

_Hey, dumb question. Should I knock or something?_

He heard a chime go off from inside the room and a combination of laughs – that of Rick and Michonne, - and then a shadow passed on the other side of the door and it opened, revealing Michonne, her eyes sparking with humor.

"If he's here, I usually am too," she told him, stepping back to let him in. "I hear when people knock."

"Thanks. Sorry," he said, signing the words as well, a blush coming to his cheeks when Rick smirked at him. It was a mischievous expression, his eyes dark as Daryl walked over to him and took a free spot in front of Rick's desk. Michonne's was placed at an angle with Rick's so it formed an L-shape, with space around the back for both of them to move. There were windows at Michonne's back, blinds drawn down so that the sun wasn't roasting them inside, and a startling lack of shelves compared with the other offices he'd seen.

Rick sat back in his chair and shifted it so that he was no longer angled and hidden behind his large computer screen, and smiled at Daryl. "Did everything go okay with the paperwork?" he signed as Michonne spoke.

Daryl nodded, his hands signing what he could remember. "Yeah. Glenn went down to go see Gareth already."

"That's great," Rick signed, smiling. "I've already submitted the request to get you added into our intranet. It should be ready by the end of lunch. Would you like to get started now or wait until after?"

Daryl hesitated – Glenn hadn't made any mention of when he would try to take lunch but he imagined at the IT department would have a stricter rotation and schedule than he would. And they had heard nothing from Maggie regarding the lawyer.

He shrugged one shoulder. "I'm ready when you are," he said, his hand staying still because he wasn't sure of the sign for that.

Rick smiled at him again, a spark of pride and approval in his eyes that made Daryl feel warm. He licked his lips and stood as Rick did, gesturing with one hand to leave the office. Michonne followed them out and closed and locked the door behind her.

 _This way,_ Rick signed, and Daryl nodded and followed. Down the hall was an empty office, the door open and the room inside dark. Rick flicked on the light and Daryl gasped – the office was way larger than he had expected it to be, shelves on either side with empty space for him to place his files and work, and a giant computer screen sitting on a desk that faced the door. It was a much nicer setup than the cubicle when he'd worked for Negan. There was a single chair at the back of the desk but three more pushed up against the back wall.

Daryl walked in, his hand brushing lightly over the shining dark wood of the shelves, and then the desk, marveling at the feeling of the pleasantly cool and pretty thing. Everything in here had to have a price tag upwards of four digits, which seemed ridiculous for someone like him.

He opened the blinds and blinked at the bright sun. His office was at an angle that it lit the room but wasn't destined to make it get too hot with the windows open, and he dragged the three chairs and pushed them in a row in front of the desk.

"Don't think I'll be having that much company," he said when they were all placed.

Rick huffed a laugh. _Don't be so sure,_ he signed, and Daryl understood enough to recognize the signs and figure out what he was saying. Michonne seemed content to be silent as translator for now and Daryl hoped that she got to the point where she only translated for him when Daryl asked her to. It would be too easy to rely on her and never learn.

Rick and Michonne took a seat and Daryl did as well, leaning forward when Rick began to sign and Michonne took over speaking; "You first job, of course, will be to get us free of Negan. I know you worked in support – how familiar were you with the rates and pricing, and the Interchange fees?"

Daryl bit his lip, rubbing a hand over his mouth instinctively when Rick's eyes dropped to his lips to get his reply; "Interchange fees are universal," he said. "Not much we can do about that, but the markup and per item I can cover. I already know a few people who might be able to offer something lower – but you gotta understand that might come with a whole other mess of things."

Rick frowned, and made a motion for Daryl to elaborate.

"Well, if nothing else, Negan was smart about monopoly," Daryl said with a sigh, shaking his head. It was strange – after spending so much time with Rick and Michonne outside of a workplace environment, he had forgotten how intense the man was when the suit was on and they were talking business. Rick's presence filled up the entire office and Daryl felt small and meek in comparison. "Your points of sale would talk to us directly, eliminating the need for a gateway, or from third-party acquiring banks. Most of your locations used a fully-integrated system so that whole cost was gone. I think it'll be more expensive trying to start from scratch like that."

Rick sighed through his nose, nodding. _Figured it would be something like that,_ he signed, before looking over to Michonne. Michonne's eyes flashed to Daryl and Daryl shook his head – he'd understood that part.

"Now, there are ways to get around that," Daryl said, holding out a hand before Rick could say or sign anything else. "If you all upgraded to PCI compliant standalones, or switched to mobile solutions, that would cut out the whole middle man. Integrator costs, too."

Rick blinked at him, one eyebrow raised. _How much would that cost initially?_

"After sign-up costs, the apps are normally free," Daryl said. "And they come with customization, an integrated POS, everything like that. So just the equipment, like iPads or whatever, and then the card reader, and whatever the pricing is for the processor which I think we can get super cheap if we bring aboard all of your accounts."

Rick continued to regard him, and Daryl shrugged. "Based off of Negan's pricing, it'd be one-fifty per account, then, I don't know, another two-hundred per station. So it'd be a pretty penny but with the pricing updates I can probably get it down so that you're barely paying anything after that."

Rick smiled, slow and proud. Daryl liked that smile a lot – he liked knowing Rick was pleased with him. He felt his cheeks turn pink and looked at Michonne who was grinning as well, obviously pleased with what he was telling them.

"I'd like to have a report of options by Friday," Rick signed and Michonne said. "Can you do that?"

"Oh, absolutely," Daryl said with a nod. "Hell, I can probably have it done today."

Rick laughed. "Well, don't get ahead of yourself. If you shine too brightly you might get taken away from me."

Daryl blinked at him, and Rick froze for a second, his eyes darting to Michonne as though realizing that she had continued to speak for him. Michonne pressed her lips together, looking guilty, and Rick cleared his throat. "I mean, Blake might decide you're better suited elsewhere and I really need someone to do this job."

"Right," Daryl said, swallowing hard enough that his throat clicked. "Well, I'll do my best to not do my best."

Rick smiled, the expression strained. Then, he stood. "You have an hour for lunch," he signed. "Come find me when you're back and I'll have Gareth make sure you have access to everything you need."

Daryl stood as well, nodding. _Thank you,_ he signed and Rick smiled, a little more genuine this time. He looked at Michonne and jerked his head and the two of them left the room and closed the door behind Daryl.

Daryl sat down with a heavy sigh, his head whirling. He knew Rick hadn't meant for him to hear that, and the way it sounded was…was something. Daryl couldn't help analyzing everything Rick did and said when he knew that Rick wanted to kiss him. He was going to spend the rest of his fucking life thinking and rethinking over everything Rick did when they were together and it would drive him fucking crazy.

He ran his hands through his hair and startled when his phone chimed. He dug it out of his pocket and saw that Glenn had texted him. _I'm free for the hour, Gareth said I'm not in the system yet so I'm basically useless, lol. Lunch?_

 _Yeah, I'll meet you downstairs,_ Daryl replied, and then stood and left his office. Michonne was waiting outside and he almost ran right into her.

"Shit, sorry," he said, barely managing to keep his balance and step away as he closed the door behind him. Michonne's eyes were dark, her lips pressed together, and she folded her arms across her chest and looked behind her as though scared anyone might hear her. Which was stupid, because the only person Daryl was afraid would hear wasn't capable of hearing anything. "What's up?"

"I wanted to say 'sorry' for…what I said Rick said," she replied, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. "he worries so much – gonna give himself a fuckin' heart attack if he keeps it up."

Daryl smiled, just a little. "It's nothin'," he replied. "I know he didn't mean it like it came out."

"Trust me, he meant it," Michonne said. "He doesn't say anything he doesn't mean."

"Michonne -."

"Look, I know it's…complicated," Michonne continued, holding up a hand to stop Daryl's protest. "I know that. Rick knows that. _You_ know that. I've never seen him like this with anyone and I don't know what to do about it. I just don't want to see him get hurt."

"I don't know how to make him stop," Daryl confessed, sighing and shaking his head. Michonne let out a sad hum, nodding in agreement. "I mean – do you think he'll stop if I just tell him I know what he's saying? That I'm not interested?"

"But you _are_ ," Michonne said. "He's good at reading people, Daryl. Like scary good. Are you that good a liar?"

"Honestly? I can be," Daryl said, "But I don't wanna work in a place where I have to keep lookin' over my shoulder. Or somewhere where I have to be conscious of my every move more than I already am." He sighed. "I know I don't fit in here, I know that whatever Rick saw in me, I still need to work my ass off and prove that it was worth the money and the cost of what I suggest, and I don't need that kinda shit pilin' on top of it as well."

"I understand," Michonne murmured. "I mean, I'm gonna do what I can, of course." She sighed and shook her head. "Sorry. I know this is unfair to you. Just…I like you, Daryl. I think you'll fit in here, and that you _do_ belong here. I'd be sorry to see this end badly."

"I don't see any other way it can end," Daryl muttered, before he sighed again. "I'm gonna head out to lunch. See you when I get back?"

Michonne smiled. "Yeah, 'course," she said, and then Daryl turned and walked back to the elevators. Glenn was already downstairs when he arrived and he walked over to his friend.

"Sorry, Michonne ambushed me in the hallway," he said with a grin. "Where were you thinkin' of goin'?"

"Saw a _Five Guys_ on our drive over."

"Shit, Eagle-eye, yeah. Let's go destroy ourselves."

Glenn laughed, and led the way out the door and into the parking garage.

 

 

They didn't hear from Maggie all through lunch and Daryl tried not to let his disappointment show. This was going to be a delicate thing and he couldn't afford to rush – not that there was a real rush, he supposed, except for the urgency and desperation he felt. The sooner he knew whether or not he was a free man, the sooner he could continue to live his life.

They returned from lunch and signed in and went to their respective floors. Daryl knocked on the door to Rick's office and Michonne opened it for him. She smiled and let him in and Rick straightened from behind his computer.

After a moment, when Daryl had taken a seat, his eyes flashed to Michonne. _Michonne,_ he signed, _would you mind waiting outside for a moment?_

Michonne blinked at him and Daryl frowned, anxiety coiling up in his gut, but she nodded and left the room. He couldn't see her shadow through the glass and figured she must have moved away.

"Daryl," Rick said, and he actually spoke his name and Daryl's gaze snapped to him, his eyes wide. Rick's voice was low again, rough with disuse, and Daryl swallowed and shifted his weight because Rick's gaze combined with his voice was threatening to give him some very inappropriate reactions.

Rick smiled, sighing a little, and began to sign slowly; _I want to keep this conversation as private as possible. Try and sign as much of it as you can. It cannot be on paper, or on record. Do you understand?_

Daryl frowned, trying to watch Rick's hands as much as he could. Rick signed slowly for him, and repeated it until Daryl licked his lips, and nodded. His chest was tight with fear, sure that Rick would just come out and say that he wanted Daryl and they would have to have that conversation _now_.

Rick regarded him for another long moment, before he sighed, accepting that Daryl understood him. _I think Blake is embezzling from the company._

Daryl blinked, before he shook his head. _I don't understand,_ he said, and then copied the term for 'embezzling'. Rick nodded and spelled it out and Daryl's eyes widened. _Blake? Why?_

 _If I had to guess, to frame me for it,_ Rick replied. _He can't fire me unless he can prove I did something that hurt the company. This thing with Negan has already put me on shaky ground. That's one of the reasons I hired you – you can always find the money. I need you to find this money._

Daryl blinked at him again. He felt like he understood most of that. He breathed an internal sigh of relief, glad that Rick wasn't going to try and talk about whatever it was between them. He looked over his shoulder and then pointed there with his thumb, and signed Michonne's name.

Rick shook his head. _She doesn't even know. I need as few people in on this as possible._

Daryl nodded again. _I'll find it,_ he signed back, not missing the spark of approval in Rick's eyes again. _When do you think it started?_

Rick shakes his head, shrugging. _If I had to guess, I'd say July of last year. Right after Blake got re-elected to the board. He's threatened by me. I know he wants me gone._

Daryl sighed. He was getting really tired of asshole CEOs making everyone's life a living Hell, but he supposed that was one of the character traits of CEOs. No one got to that point by not being a shark. _Embezzling,_ he started, fumbling over the sign for it, _can be hard to find, but there are signs. I gotta ask though – you said Shane's a forensic accountant. Why not hire him?_

Rick shakes his head. _Shane is a master at what he does, but he's an outsider and if I hired him, Blake would be suspicious. He's already suspicious, I'm sure. I'm hoping he assumes other things about why I hired you._

Daryl cocked his head to one side, his chest getting tight again. His hands twitched, so desperately wanting to press the situation. It would be the perfect opportunity, to get everything out in the open – or at least, most of it. His contract with Negan was very much off the table.

In fact, he could tell Negan this. Tell him that Rick's boss thought he was swindling money from the company and that alone would be enough to keep Rick in line. The thought made his mouth turn sour and he immediately shook it away.

He would _not_ betray Rick's trust like that.

 _I'll find the money,_ he signed instead of anything else he wanted to, and Rick nodded, smiling in relief.

 _I knew I could count on you,_ he signed back. He stood and gestured to the door and Daryl stood as well, leading the way out. Michonne was standing outside of Daryl's office and nodded in greeting.

"Let me show you the systems," Rick signed and Michonne said, and Daryl nodded and opened the door, finding that his computer was now on and showing a login page. "Your username is just DarylDixon – capitals on the 'D's, and you can create your password now."

Daryl did so, opening the computer to see the generic Windows background and the staff data folders. "All of our manuals and data is stored in here for the public," Michonne said when Daryl clicked into it. "The finance department has a separate folder, here." She pointed and Daryl clicked on it and was greeted with a request for a password. She told him the password and he opened it to a mountain of spreadsheets and documents.

Daryl let out a low huff. "Gonna organize this shit, first thing," he said. Rick laughed.

"Feel free. Your predecessor barely knew how to use Google."

"Alright," Daryl said, sitting down with a huff. "I'll get started on researching other options for you. I'll have it to you soon as I can."

 _Excellent,_ Rick signed. "We have a group Skype for the entire company, and our emails are all first name, last name, at enterprises-dot-com. Text me or Skype me if you need anything."

Daryl nodded, offering a small smile as he pulled up his browser. There was a phone to the left of his desk and he nodded towards it. "What's my extension?" he asked.

 _2-4-7,_ Rick signed back.

"Awesome. I'll let you know what I find."

Rick nodded. "After the background check is done, you'll get your badge. Normal hours are nine-to-five, but as long as you get your forty in I'm not too picky about when you come and go."

Daryl smiled and nodded, and then Rick's eyes flashed to Michonne. He licked his lips and shook his head just a little, before he turned and left the room. Michonne smiled at him and followed after, giving a little wave as she closed the door behind her that Daryl answered in kind.

With two tasks that promised to give him more than a few days' work, Daryl set about organizing the finance folder to his liking. There were spreadsheets of expenses and payroll charts, as well as a place to submit his timecard in a link. He moved that to his desktop.

He figured the first job should be finding about other options than Negan. Blake expected him to be doing his job and Rick would have undoubtedly told him about his desire to withdraw from business with Negan's company. Rick have given him until Friday but Daryl was confident that he could finish the report more quickly than that and use the rest of his time to hunt down the missing money.

This was exciting, refreshing in its newness and promise of a challenge. After a few moments it was easy to get lost to the math of expenses versus savings the promise of pricing from various processors, and he was finally able to stop thinking about Rick's hands, or the way his eyes lit up whenever Daryl told him something good, or the way his voice sounded when he said Daryl's name.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidentally posted this to the wrong story first whoops shows how tired I am.  
> Sorry for the delay guys! I was in Florida for a week and I have rehearsals every night until show week next week, but after that I'm free again!

Daryl started awake with a gasp, a low groan stifled behind his clenched teeth as he rolled onto his stomach. His chest was burning, his hand buried deep in his sleep pants and wrapped around his hard cock. He stroked himself quickly, his other hand going to his hair and fisting tight, tugging just as he had imagined it being done in his dream.

 _Daryl_. " _Daryl."_

Rick's voice echoed in his head, as deep and rough as Daryl had heard it, on repeat like a broken record. Daryl groaned again, rubbing the wet precome at his cockhead down his shaft as he lost himself to the memory-dream of Rick's hands on him, sliding up his shoulders, cupping his neck. It was like he could still feel Rick's commanding presence, filling up his entire hotel room. He drove his hips against the sheets and the mattress, desperately searching for the friction and heat his hand had been giving him.

"Mm, _fuck_ ," he whispered, clenching his eyes tightly shut and pulling on his hair again and imagining that it was Rick, tilting his head to one side to mouth and suck at his throat. His shoulders shook, desperate for some kind of weight against them, Rick's heat and muscle pinning him down as they grinded and rolled together.

His hand tightened on his cock and he let go of his hair to bite at his knuckles, whining against his sweaty skin as he stroked faster. His body was caught between the desire to fuck back and forth into the mattress and chasing the heat of his own hand. It always felt so much better when someone else was doing it.

He slid his fingers away from his mouth, dragging his nails down his neck and imagined that it was Rick doing it, his breathing heavy in the otherwise silent room. His gut clenched and he twisted his hand at the head of his cock, gasping at the feeling.

 _Daryl_.

What else could he get Rick to say? How would Rick sound at times like this, when there was nothing but skin and sweat and heat? Would Rick curse, or would he just make sounds like an animal, grunting and growling as he took whatever pleasure Daryl's body could offer him?

He slammed his free hand down on the mattress, shoving himself up onto his knees so he could stroke himself properly. He worked his sweatpants down to his thighs to free his cock and gasped, hanging his head and watching the way his red shaft disappeared and reappeared with each stroke of his hand. When his orgasm came, it was slow, dragged out of him by its fingernails. He whimpered, collapsing so his forehead was against his sweat-damp pillows, and bit his lip as he came, staining the sheets between his knees.

" _Fuck_ ," he growled, taking a moment to catch his breath. The sweep of pleasure was gone quickly, replaced by a deep-seated guilt. He was going to lose his damn mind before the week was out. He wasn't good at hiding stuff like this – he could lie, sure, but not when shit like desire and attraction came into play. And Rick was good at reading people – 'Scary good', as Michonne had said. "Fuck," he growled again, and wiped his dirty hand on the sheets before he shoved himself out of bed and made his way on shaky legs to the shower.

It was almost seven in the morning by the time Daryl was dressed and ready for work. He had gone with Glenn to Maggie's father's house after work the day before to get his motorcycle and some more of his things, and Maggie had told them that there was a house they were looking at and Daryl was more than welcome to tag along this weekend for the viewing. Then they'd go to the apartments Bob had mentioned to scope out a place for Daryl as well.

Bob was there when Daryl came downstairs and he grinned widely at Daryl. "Should I get the valet to fetch your ride?" he asked.

Daryl raised an eyebrow. "Can he ride a bike?"

"Oh, I'm begging you to let me find out."

Daryl laughed. "Maybe some other time," he said, and grabbed his box of cigarettes from his pocket. He had time to smoke and hang out with Bob for a while. A car pulled up and Bob stepped forward to greet the new arrivals, a fresh-faced bellhop running out with a cart to gather the bags. A family of four got out of the car.

"Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Ford! Pleasure to see you folks again."

The father was a big man, pale and ginger, his mustache an impressive upside-down smile on his face. The mother was a slim Hispanic woman with a scar on her cheek. They both wore military uniforms. Their children were young, five and seven if Daryl had to guess, both girls that looked just like their mother.

"Bob, good to see you," the father greeted with a hearty slap to Bob's shoulder. "You remember my lady Rosita."

"Of course," Bob said with a bright grin. "And…don't tell me…" The two girls lined up in front of him, grinning widely and standing on their tip-toes as he pretended to examine them. "Adrianna and…Lisette," he said, pointing to first the oldest, then the youngest. "You girls get so much bigger every time I see ya."

The bellhop wheeled their bags inside and Mr. Ford laughed, scooping up Lisette into his arms. "I owe you burgers, right?"

Bob nodded. "Yes, Sir!"

"Let me know when you're off next. My treat, of course." Then they went into the hotel. Rosita gave Bob a quick hug and smiled in greeting at Daryl, who nodded back before taking another deep drag of his cigarette, and Bob returned to his post.

"You really know everyone, don't you?" he asked lightly.

"It's my job," Bob replied with a shrug.

Daryl hummed. "I've been thinking about what you said," he continued, dropping his cigarette on the ground and crushing it under his shoe. "About vices."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, think I might have found some worth havin'."

Bob smiled. "That's good."

"Can't have 'em yet," Daryl said with a shake of his hand. "But I think I have 'em already. Is that possible?"

"To have a vice you're not aware of?"

"Oh, definitely, but that's not what I meant."

Bob cocked his head to one side, frowning in confusion. Daryl shook his head, unsure how to explain it further. He didn't think he and Bob were at that particular point in their friendship, but it was easy to talk to Bob. That was probably one of the reasons he was in this line of work.

Bob shrugged again and turned to join Daryl in people watching. It was a bright and sunny Tuesday morning and people were already starting to go about their day. Bob grinned, looking at Daryl out of the corner of his eye, and then pointed to a couple across the road. There was a notable age difference between the man and the woman, but they were walking close together, hand in hand, their steps synced. "Those two come by every Tuesday," he said. "She's in love with him, but he's not in love with her. I've watched them for months. Do you think she considers her love a vice?"

Daryl frowned, biting his lower lip, and folded his arms across his chest. "Probably," he said. "If she knows he doesn't love her as much."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong," Bob said. "They're going to get married."

"That don't mean much."

"The intention is there. Some say intention is enough for sin. Why not good, too?"

"I don't think anyone _intends_ to sin," Daryl said, frowning more deeply.

"Wrong again," Bob said, grinning. "Especially when it comes to love. Some people have the worst intentions. Money. Power. Political or personal gain. Isn't that all we are? Animals vying for top dog?"

Daryl sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. "You got a way with words, friend."

"And you have a way of avoiding them," Bob replied. "That's a good vice. Sometimes the things we don't say mean more than what we do."

Negan's contract flashed through Daryl's head. "Even if the truth hurt someone you loved, you'd still tell them?"

"Can you really love them if you don't?"

Daryl sighed, running a hand through his hair. The couple had long-since disappeared around the corner. "I think if he marries her for money, they'll divorce in a year and he gets half of it. If he marries her as a status symbol, she can't possibly be happy." He shook his head. "I guess I'm as much a fool romantic as my momma was."

Bob laughed, but didn't reply for a long moment. Then Daryl sighed and pushed himself away from the wall. "I should go," he said. "Gotta get to work."

"Have a good day, my friend Daryl!" Bob said with a wave, and Daryl went back into the lobby to take the elevators down to the car parking lot. His bike was where he'd left it, close to the door, and he smiled and pet a familiar hand down the handle before he mounted the bike and put his helmet on. The drive to Rick's office building was much easier by bike, since he could more easily navigate the chaotic traffic, and he was there before eight.

He signed in and was guided up to his floor and went to his office. The size and pristineness of it still took his breath away. Sometimes it was impossible to believe that this was his life now.

He booted up his computer and breathed a sigh of relief as his well-organized desktop flickered to life. It was much more soothing than the chaos of what his predecessor had set up and he was enormously grateful that Rick hadn't insisted that he keep it the same. Working under Negan, everything had had 'a place', which was not only outdated, but horribly lacking in intuition. Why would notes on troubleshooting a terminal be under 'General Support Info' and not 'Terminals'?

He shook his head, sighing, and brought up his email, Skype, and a black webpage. A shadow fell across the entryway and he looked up, sucking in a breath when he saw Rick standing there, still turned as though he had been walking past and stopped when he saw Daryl sitting there. It was just Rick – Michonne was nowhere in sight.

Daryl bit his lip, signing a quick _Good morning_.

Rick smiled. _Good morning, Daryl,_ he replied, and Daryl tried not to feel disappointed when Rick didn't speak his name out loud. Part of him wanted to ask Rick to do it, but he couldn't force his hands to move. It was like Rick was looking at him and he _knew_. He knew what Daryl had been dreaming about, he knew how Daryl had jerked himself off, sweaty and frantic first thing in the morning, to the sound of Rick saying his name.

Daryl's cheeks went pink and he averted his eyes, snapping them back when Rick's hands moved again.

_You're here early._

Daryl nodded. _Couldn't sleep._

Rick nodded back, a small furrow of concern marring his brow. _Everything okay?_

Oh, how many ways were there to answer that question? Daryl bit his lip and nodded, lowering his eyes again. After a moment he heard Rick sigh, and saw that Rick was turning to leave, and he stood. He lifted his arm to catch Rick's attention.

Rick stopped and looked at him and Daryl cleared his throat. "I wanted to talk to you about something," he said.

Rick nodded and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

"How many of your tech guys work in website and app development?"

Rick cocked his head to one side, and signed the answer slowly so that Daryl could watch; _None specifically. But I know we have coders and developers on our team. Why?_

"I was thinking…" Daryl looked to the side and grabbed a small stack of papers that he had printed out the day before. They were full of charts and cost comparisons of different competitors for Negan. He walked around the edge of his desk and approached Rick, coming up short when the man was less than a foot from him. He smelled clean, freshly showered, and vaguely of sandalwood and Old Spice. Daryl took in a deep breath and handed Rick the papers. Rick took them, but his eyes were on Daryl's mouth. "I think we could make our own point of sale. I've been researching, and it all comes down to nothin' if we still gotta pay the fees for their software. But it ain't hard – Negan had his up and running within a couple weeks and his team is much smaller than ours."

Rick's eyes flashed with something like approval and he glanced down at the report, before holding it up in question.

"Those are other options," Daryl said, "but if we make our own, we can buy card readers off Amazon for a third of the price. I know you ordered a bunch recently, they're recent enough to be returned for a refund. We take that profit, put it into development, I think we can have something viable within a month."

Rick nodded slowly, his expression calculating.

"We just need to get an agreement with an acquiring bank, but I know we can do it. Hell, we can go through Wells Fargo or something if we need to. But yeah…" Daryl trailed off with a shake of his head, leaning back against his desk, and he smiled. "I think we'll be down to, I don't know, maybe even forty percent of the original processing costs. _And,_ " he added, "startup fees will be practically nothing."

Rick smiled slowly, his eyes shining with approval, and Daryl felt his cheeks turn pink because just as Rick's presence could fill the room, so too could his praise and the warmth of his favor and Daryl felt it just as easily as any physical touch.

Rick looked back down at the reports, and then stepped forward so that he could set them down by Daryl's hand. It brought them incredibly close and Daryl felt his heartbeat stutter.

 _You're awesome,_ Rick signed, the motions of his hands somehow soft, like he was whispering the signs, if that was possible. Daryl's chest got warm and tight with the praise. Rick wasn't moving away, but standing very close, and Daryl felt each second tick by like the pounding of a drum.

The room was quiet and still, the closed door reminding Daryl that they were truly alone, standing like a barrier between them and the reality of the rest of the world.

"Daryl," Rick said, speaking his name aloud, and Daryl's eyes snapped to him, wide. Rick's gaze dropped to his mouth, then back up, and he let out a soft sigh. _I want to kiss you so badly._

And Daryl was so warm, strung out on the praise emanating from Rick and dizzy from his dream that morning, that he forgot he wasn't supposed to understand. His hands twitched and he found himself signing _I want you to_ before he could think about it.

Rick froze, his eyes wide, and he took a step back. Daryl swallowed hard, his hands frozen in front of his chest, fingers curled in the 'want' sign. He couldn't make himself move.

Rick looked over his shoulder, towards the closed door, and took another step back. The room abruptly felt cold. _How long have you known that sign?_ he asked, quickly, and then made the sign for 'kiss'.

Daryl swallowed hard enough that his throat clicked. "Since before I moved down here."

Rick turned his face away, letting out a soft sound that felt like a curse. Daryl couldn't make himself move, the warmth in his chest turning into a hard knot of hot anxiety. He straightened up, drawing Rick's attention.

 _I'm sorry,_ he signed. _I didn't mean to lie._

Rick shook his head. _I thought you didn't know,_ he signed. _I would have never…_

 _But you did. You do. It's okay,_ Daryl signed back, his fingers frantic. He wasn't even sure he was signing correctly but he hoped Rick understood him. _I want you to. I shouldn't. You're my boss. I know I shouldn't._

 _But you do,_ Rick replied, throwing his own words back at him. His face was hard to read – he didn't look angry at Daryl's deception. He looked almost afraid. _I should go_ , he said, and took another step back, but hesitated.

Daryl licked his lips and Rick's eyes were on the gesture immediately. "Do you want to go?" he asked.

Rick looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and shook his head slowly. _I enjoy your company._

"And I enjoy yours," Daryl replied. Rick smiled, but it was strained.

He looked back towards the door again as though gauging how safe it was inside this room. Daryl had no idea if there were cameras or whatever else, but Rick must know because he looked back at Daryl and closed the distance between them again. Daryl leaned against his desk, his head lower than Rick's now, and then Rick reached out with a slow, shaking hand and gently touched Daryl's cheek. Daryl heard his breath catch.

 _If you want me to,_ Rick signed, one-handed, _then I will._

"We shouldn't," Daryl whispered.

_That's not a 'No'._

Rick's gaze pierced him, like Daryl was as helpless as a fly in a web. But he wasn't afraid, or nervous. The way Rick was looking at him made him feel powerful – he held the fate of this powerful man in his hands and Daryl had control. He had it and he wanted it and more than that, he wanted to give it back to Rick. Rick's touch was so light on his skin it felt like a strange, disconnected thing, and yet each point where his fingertips touched Daryl's cheek burned him.

Finally, Daryl couldn't take it anymore. He pushed himself upright and reached out to touch Rick's chest, over the lapel of his suit jacket. "I want you to," he said, and Rick smiled. His hand flattened on Daryl's cheek and then curled around his jaw, gentle as ever.

Rick leaned in and Daryl met him halfway, fisting his hand in Rick's suit jacket as Rick's hand tightened on his jaw, sliding down to cup the back of his neck. His touch was as warm and sure as Daryl had imagined it, the way his soft lips felt against Daryl's was better than.

Daryl closed his eyes and tilted his head to deepen the kiss when Rick sighed, leaning right as Rick did as well and Daryl's mouth opened in a gasp, freeing his lower lip for Rick to trap between his teeth in a gentle bite. It sent a ricochet of heat down Daryl's spine and he breathed in deeply, pulling Rick closer by his clothes until their bodies were two long lines of heat pressed tightly together. Rick's other hand slid to Daryl's waist and his fingers threaded through the belt loop of his slacks, pulling them closer still.

Daryl slid his tongue into Rick's mouth, sighing softly at the taste of toothpaste and coffee his found there. When he curled his tongue around Rick's and pulled away Rick let out a low growl – this rough, animal thing – and followed him, ending one kiss and immediately starting the second.

Daryl moaned, trembling finely, and Rick's hand went from his neck to his chest so he could feel the vibration of it and answered with a rumble of his own. Then he let Daryl pull away, still loosely clutching at his clothes. Rick's mouth was pinker now, his cheeks the same blushing red, his eyes shining darkly in the light.

"Daryl," Rick breathed, resting their foreheads together. Daryl sighed, delighting in the gentle brush of their noses, the way Rick seemed unable to pull away from him even if Daryl wasn't clutching at him with such need. "Again."

His voice was low, rough with disuse, and Daryl was absolutely helpless. He nodded and Rick kissed him once more, biting his lower lip again to get his mouth to open and deepen the kiss. Then, when there was no more air between them to spare, Rick pulled away from him and Daryl let him go, absently smoothing out the part of his shirt where Rick's hand had wrinkled the fabric.

Rick took a deep breath, looking just as affected as Daryl felt. He licked his lips and his eyes snapped to Daryl's face, then away, and he let out a small laugh. _You're right,_ he signed. _We shouldn't have done that._

 _We should never do it again,_ Daryl signed back, but he was smirking and Rick smiled back at him, understanding the joke.

Rick rubbed both hands through his hair and straightened his jacket, and then he grabbed the report from next to Daryl where he had left it. _Thank you for this_ , he signed, lifting the papers for Daryl to see. _I'll see what we can spare from tech to make it happen and test the viability._

Daryl nodded, licking his lips. He wanted so desperately to kiss Rick again. He wanted _more_ than that. And he knew, how that he knew what Rick's hands on him felt like, the way he growled whenever Daryl kissed him just right, that he'd be spending a lot of mornings just like the one he'd had.

He cleared his throat and circled around to the back of his desk and Rick watched him – his eyes felt like those of a predator, watching how Daryl moved in the space. Daryl's cheeks were burning and his lip felt tender and he loved it.

"I'll keep working on that other project," he said, and Rick nodded, eyes sharpening. The transition from needy to commanding was smooth, like stepping from one room to the next, and Daryl shivered for an entirely different reason as he sat back down.

 _I'll see you later,_ Rick signed, his eyes dark with promise, and then he turned and left the room. Daryl ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head, his fingers still trembling finely. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and let it out after holding it for several seconds.

"Carol's gonna lose her shit," he muttered to himself, shaking his head again. His phone chimed and he pulled it out of his pocket, opening it to see Glenn had texted him.

_Maggie says she's found someone. Wants us all to go to lunch together. One sound good?_

Daryl bit his lip, his throat tight with worry and anticipation.

_Yeah, I can do that. I'll see you then._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dudes my job is an absolute dumpster fire right now. I'm so glad Daryl escaped it.
> 
> I'm back! After vacation and a deadly combination of bronchitis and the show (but we got 6 standing ovations for 5 shows so that's amazing!), I'm alive and kicking. Sorry for the delay in writing. Hope you like this chapter!

Andrea Harrison was a shark, Daryl could see that as soon as he set eyes on her. He followed Glenn over to the table where Maggie and the lawyer – Andrea, Glenn had told him her name was – sat. They already had gently steaming cups of coffee, and ice water, in front of them, their menus lying flat as they had already decided what to order.

Glenn and Daryl took their menus and their seats with a soft word of thanks and a promise from the waiter to be back with waters for them both. He and Glenn both ordered coffee.

The ladies gave them a moment to settle and then Maggie leaned over, pulling Glenn across for a gentle cheek peck of greeting. "Daryl, Glenn, this is Andrea Harrison," she said, gesturing to the other woman. Her wavy blonde hair was pulled tight to her scalp in a bun, her lips painted a pale, shiny pink. She looked like the kind of woman who went to tanning beds so that she could say she had been on vacation somewhere exotic.

"Pleasure," she said, her voice crisp. Underneath her menu, Daryl saw a manila folder labeled 'Dixon-Rhee'. She made no move to open or acknowledge it. Daryl swallowed, nodding at her after she had shaken her hand.

"Nice to meet you," he said.

She smiled, the expression thin but not unwelcoming.

"How are you boys liking it down here?" she asked.

Daryl looked over at Glenn, but decided against pressing the case. He wasn't sure what the protocol was for a lunch date with a lawyer, so he'd have to adhere to whatever small talk Andrea wanted before they got down to business.

"I love it," Glenn said with a smile, reaching over and taking Maggie's hand in a light grip, their fingers lacing. "Being down here with family again is great."

"Yeah," Daryl added when Glenn fell silent. "I mean, it's kinda always been home, you know? Lookin' forward to getting settled down here when I can." _If I can_. His eyes dropped to the folder again and he bit his lip.

The waiter returned with their waters and they ordered their food. Their menus were taken away but still Andrea didn't reach for the folder. "You been down here all your life?" Daryl asked, clearing his throat when the silence stretched on to something uncomfortable.

Andrea smiled. "My family moved here from Colorado when I was young, but essentially, yes," she replied. Then, she sighed and looked down at the folder, eyebrows raised. "Well, I suppose that's enough pleasantries," she said. "Thank you for humoring me."

"I didn't mean -."

"I'm not offended," Andrea said with a wave of her hand and a vaguely more pleasant smile. Her eyes flashed up to meet Daryl's and she let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "Alright, so. This contract…" She tapped her fingers on the front page of it and she sighed, raising her eyes to Heaven. "Is probably one of the biggest pains of the ass I've ever had the pleasure of picking apart."

Daryl winced. That didn't sound good.

"The problem is, this is clearly a contract to blackmail, which is illegal," Andrea said, shaking her head again. "But it doesn't explicitly _say_ anything about blackmail in a way that would hold up under defense."

"So there's nothing we can do," Daryl said with a sigh.

Andrea smiled at him. "Not exactly," she said, opening the contract to its fourth page. "Maggie told me that your colleague was recently let go as well, yes?"

Daryl nodded.

"Well, that violates this section here," she said, pointing one fingernail under a highlighted line. " _Any and all resources_ , it says. Well, again, it doesn't explicitly say that no one can be fired, _but_ it's ambiguous enough that it might work in your favor. Ambiguity in a contract favors the one who didn't write it."

"So what does that mean?" Daryl asked.

"Well, I'm going to consult with my partner, make sure we have a strong enough case, but I think we can void out this contract so that it's no longer your problem," Andrea said with a smile, sitting back and closing the folder just as the waiter approached with their food. She set the contract to one side so that they could eat.

Daryl looked down at his food, no longer hungry. "How long do you think that process will be?" he asked, fiddling with the handle of his coffee cup just to give himself something to do.

Andrea shrugged. "It'll depend. The issue will be in proving that Carol's presence there was essential to you during your contract, and that by firing her Negan hindered your ability to do your job." She looked up from her salad. "It could stretch on for a while. We want to be absolutely sure before we proceed."

"Of course," Daryl said with a nod. "Any way I can help."

Andrea smiled. "Excellent."

Andrea ate quickly and Daryl insisted on paying her part of the check, and then she took her leave of them. She exchanged numbers with Daryl and Glenn and big Maggie a fond farewell before leaving, the manila folder clutched tightly in her hand. Daryl sighed, looking back at his friends.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Maggie shrugged one shoulder, lips pursed in thought. "She's one of the top ranked attorneys in Atlanta, and she's willing to do this pro-bono as a personal favor to me, so I think she's great."

Daryl blinked. "Hold up, she's doing this for free?" he asked.

Maggie nodded. "She and I went to college together and she's always had a soft spot for tearing corporate assholes apart so I think she's just as happy to do this as we are. I've told her a bit about Negan and she already hates the guy." She smirks at Daryl. "And thinks you're an idiot for signing this."

"I _am_ an idiot for signing it," Daryl said, shaking his head. "I just didn't want anyone else dealing with Negan after this kinda blowback. I thought…"

"I get it," Glenn said, resting a hand on Daryl's shoulder. "You were trying to protect Tara, and Carol, and all them. Negan probably assumed he'd be able to get something out of you after the meeting with Grimes."

"How has that been?" Maggie asked, switching the topic to something a little lighter. "We haven't had a chance to really talk about any of that. How're you enjoying the new job?"

"The lady who was here before me barely knew how to Google, according to Rick, so I guess I'm a huge improvement," Daryl said with a laugh. His appetite had returned to him and so he started picking at his chicken, taking small bites of the rice and green beans on the side. Glenn and Maggie continued eating the remnants of their meal as he spoke. "He's already got me on some pretty big projects." He looked to Glenn. "I'm going to try and get him designing his own Point of Sale."

Glenn blinked, cocking his head to one side. "So you wanna piss off the integrators too?"

Daryl grinned. "Maybe it's my true calling in life," he said. Glenn shook his head, smiling. "But I mean, think about it – our own P.O.S., cheap terminals, if we made our own deal with Merrick and TSYS, or even went through Wells Fargo instead…"

"No, I mean, I'm not disagreeing with you," Glenn said. "Does he think he has the guys who can make it happen?"

"He seemed pretty confident," Daryl said, looking back down at his plate. He bit his lower lip, unable to stop his cheeks turning pink when he thought about what had happened immediately before that conversation, where Rick's attention had been on him and pushing against him like a touch-starved cat. He shifted his weight and cleared his throat.

Maggie's eyes narrowed, and when Daryl looked up his blush darkened as their eyes locked. "Something happened," she said, straightening up in excitement. Daryl was sure he was as red as the napkins placed by their plates.

Glenn's eyes widened when he looked at Daryl. "Oh my God, _what_?" he asked, setting his knife and fork down and turning to face Daryl more fully. "What happened?"

"We, ah." Daryl cleared his throat, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. "We kinda made out a little."

"Oh my _God_ ," Maggie said, her voice going high-pitched and quiet. "Tell us _everything_."

"It wasn't -." Daryl rolled his eyes, but his chest was getting tight and giddy, remembering how good it felt when Rick had kissed him, and touched his neck, how he'd sounded growling against Daryl's mouth. "We were just talking, about work and stuff, and then he did the sign for how much he wanted to kiss me again and I was stupid and didn't even think about it and I kinda…gave away that I knew what he was saying."

"Holy shit," Glenn whispered. "Did he freak out?"

"A little," Daryl admitted, remembering the look in Rick's eyes. "But he, ah – he asked me how long I had known what he was saying and I told him, before we came down here. And I said, you know, 'You're my boss', and we shouldn't…but then…"

"This is better than any soap opera I've ever watched," Maggie declared, her eyes bright as she grinned. "So are you guys, like, together now?"

Daryl shook his head, though truthfully he wasn't sure what to call it. He wanted Rick. Rick wanted him. But there hadn't been time to talk about any of that – and it wasn't a conversation Daryl was sure he was ready to have. Not with the contract still looming over his head like a stormcloud.

His phone chimed and he pulled it out of his pocket with an apologetic look, opening it to find a text from Rick.

_We're having a meeting with Gareth and our lead developer at 2pm today. Please make sure you're available. I'll have Michonne show you where the conference room is._

Daryl bit his lip, checking the time. It was almost one, and nearing the end of their lunch hour. _I'll be there,_ he texted back, before putting his phone away. "Looks like there's going to be a meeting later to try and get our own P.O.S. up and running," he said.

"Damn, this guy doesn't hesitate a minute, does he?"

"It's going to be a big change," Daryl conceded. "But I think it'll be worth it."

"Things are starting to look up," Maggie said gently, as Glenn flagged down their waiter and asked for the check. She leaned over the table and put her hand on Daryl's for a brief moment, smiling warmly. "I think it's all gonna work out. Really."

"Maybe," Daryl said, his cheeks turning pink again. "I hope so."

 

 

Daryl and Glenn returned at 1:30 and Glenn went to his floor after they signed in, and Daryl went up to the top floor. He walked to Rick's office and knocked on the door. "Come in," came Michonne's reply, and Daryl smiled and opened it.

She and Rick were inside and they both greeted him with warm smiles. Rick's eyes raked him up and down and Daryl blushed, ducking his head and shifting his weight. "I know I'm early," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"We like to be early," Michonne said, standing. "I'll show you where the conference room is."

"Daryl," Rick said, making them both stop. Daryl had to fight back the involuntary shiver that hearing his name, rasped so low, made him feel. He looked over to see that Rick was standing behind his desk as well. Rick bit his lower lip, eyes flashing to Michonne, before he signed _A moment, please._

Michonne nodded and left the room, and Daryl could see nothing on her face that hinted at suspicion or knowledge. He couldn't imagine Rick hadn't told her what had happened, but maybe Rick was more private about things like this than Daryl had originally assumed. Still, she left, and then it was just the two of them in the room.

"Daryl," Rick said again, circling his desk.

Daryl swallowed hard enough that his throat clicked. His mouth felt dry and his chest was tight. "Yeah?" he asked, fingers curling in his pockets hard enough to dig into his leg.

Rick hesitated, now at the same side of his desk as Daryl was. His fingers twitched in front of him and then he raised his hands. _The thing we shouldn't do…_ Daryl cocked his head to one side, watching Rick's hands carefully. _I'd like to do it again._

Daryl smiled, lowering his eyes, and licked his lips. It was like he could already feel the warmth of Rick's mouth against his, hear the way he growled whenever Daryl kissed him just right. He raised his eyes and found Rick watching him intently, his expression at once both hesitant and eager. He wanted it, but he didn't feel comfortable enough to just demand it of Daryl.

Idly Daryl wondered how long they would do this for before Rick would just kiss him whenever he wanted. When would the barrier fall and Rick could just reach out to him, put a hand in his hair and pull him close? When would the levy break and they started to do more than that? An image flashed, unbidden, of Daryl falling to his knees and taking Rick into his mouth, trying to wring out all other kinds of grunts and animal growls from the other man. His gut clenched up.

He pulled his hands from his pockets and signed, frantic and eager; _Kiss me_. _I want you to kiss me._

Rick smiled and stepped forward. He took Daryl's hands in his, the touch gentle and warm, and slowly raised the knuckles of Daryl's right hand to his lips. He smiled, kissing Daryl's knuckles, and then the back of his hand, and it was crazy how that light, intimate touch sent shards of heat straight down Daryl's back and flooded his head with desire. He closed the distance quickly, resting his free hand on Rick's chest, and pulled his hand down so that Rick's mouth was free and their lips could meet.

Rick sighed against him, closing his eyes, and wrapped his fingers in Daryl's shirt, pulling them even closer. His lips parted, letting Daryl's tongue inside and earning a sweet rumble in Rick's chest that Daryl felt where his hand was pressed against the man's suit. He pushed closer, eager to feel more of Rick's heat against him, and Rick seemed just as eager to answer, one hand sliding up to knot in Daryl's hair and keep him still as their kiss deepened, their breathing grew heavier, the heat in the room ramping up between them.

They parted briefly, foreheads touching, and Daryl huffed a laugh. "I don't know how productive I'll be in this meeting," he confessed.

Rick smirked, pride sparking in his eyes, and Daryl leaned in for another kiss. His chest felt warm and tight, like it was shrinking and constricting his lungs and heart. His clothing felt too restrictive and he longed to put his hands against Rick's skin, feel the way his chest stretched with each heavy breath and feel his heart pound behind his ribs.

Finally they had to part, no more air left in the room for them to use. Daryl was breathing heavily, his lips warm and sensitive. Rick grabbed his hand again and kissed his palm before letting him go. "Damn," Daryl muttered, his fingers curling and Rick smiled at him, like he knew how every touch affected Daryl. He was good at reading people, Michonne had told him that enough times. Rick's eyes were dark, the pupil in them swallowing the gemlike blue. Daryl wanted, more than anything, to kiss him again.

 _I have no doubts,_ Rick signed, and Daryl frowned, not knowing the word 'Doubt'. Rick spelled it out for him and Daryl nodded, blushing again. _Shall we?_

"Wait," Daryl said, reaching out and putting a hand on Rick's arm. Rick stopped, his head turned to regard Daryl, and Daryl couldn't move. He sighed and licked his lips, before he shook his head. "Nevermind."

_What is it?_

Daryl licked his lips again and let Rick's arm go. "As soon as I stop kissing you, I want to start again," he confessed.

Rick blinked at him and smiled, cocking his head to one side. His eyes flashed to the door for a moment as though considering, before he looked back at Daryl. He was in business mode again, but not the kind of business where there were meetings and reports. He reminded Daryl of a hunting wildcat, stalking its prey and keeping mostly out of sight but ready to pounce at a moment's notice.

 _What are your plans for dinner tonight?_ Rick signed.

Daryl shook his head. _Nothing._

Rick nodded. _Let's go to the meeting,_ he said, and Daryl swallowed, fighting back a disappointed look. He followed Rick out into the hallway where Michonne was waiting, looking down at her phone. She looked up and raised an eyebrow at the two of them.

"Your shirt's wrinkled," she said with a nod in Daryl's direction. Daryl blushed, looking down and straightening it out. She smirked. "Shall we?"

 _Lead the way,_ Rick said with a gesture, and she rolled her eyes and pushed herself away from the wall, both men falling into step behind her.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't make it to the date, sorry guys! But the next chapter will have it.........and probably stuff'n'thangs.
> 
> On that note - it's not tagged yet, so this is a good opportunity for some opinions. Would people prefer top Rick or Daryl? I'm on the edge of either, and honestly might write a few scenes of each, but if anyone has some opinions they'd like to share I'm all ears.

Daryl had never had to sit in on meetings with the higher-ups or developers when he had been working for Negan. The idea of doing so had never much appealed to him, in all honesty – he liked being able to get up from his desk and move around to grab coffee or water or food, or go talk to Glenn and Tara or Carol when he needed to. Sitting in the same chair for hours on end listening to someone drone on (or worse, listening to Negan go off on one of his rants) didn't hold any allure for him.

But this was something he was genuinely interested in, and the company was a great improvement.

Rick sat on his left, Michonne took the seat across from Rick, and then Gareth was to her left and at the head of the table sat their lead developer, a man by the name of Dale Horvath. He was older, grey-haired, and his voice was gentle. Neither Gareth nor Dale knew enough sign language that they knew what Rick was saying so Michonne was playing the part of translator, although Rick wasn't saying much of anything.

He had his commanding presence on, sitting on his shoulders like a coat. Daryl could feel it and it was…well, distracting. Everything about Rick was distracting. He hadn't been lying when he said he wouldn't be much use in the meeting, both because he lacked the expertise and the know-how to discuss things like making an app, and because with Rick sitting next to him, his focus and his hands, was proving to fill Daryl's head with decidedly _un_ -work related thoughts.

"So what kind of timeline are we looking at?" Michonne asked, speaking for Rick.

Dale shrugged. "Well, the base code won't be much trouble. If we're going to follow Negan's model, it'll take a QA a while to make sure everything works."

"I have some suggestions on improvements, when we get to that stage," Daryl muttered. It had been a headache and a half when they'd deployed the app and the P.O.S. the first few weeks, and even now it was still a pain on whether the merchant would be using an Android or Apple device. He knew it was because of the different software applications but the registration process was still ridiculous for Android.

Dale smiled at him. "I'm sure," he said kindly. "I'll need a team of guys, probably six – four for Android, two for Apple. And I'll work on the P.C. version. I think we can have a workable prototype by the end of the month."

Daryl blinked. That kind of turnaround was more than he expected. "That's awesome," he said, sitting up straighter and smiling. He looked over at Rick. "I can reach out to a couple of banks and get us started. It's a simple process. Wachovia, Wells Fargo – I think TD Bank does it too."

Rick smiled at him, this fond expression on his face, before he nodded. "Keep me updated on that," he signed, and Michonne said for the sake of Gareth and Dale. "Gareth, who can you spare from your team?"

Gareth scratched at his jaw, considering it for a moment. "You can take Glenn. He's new and familiar with the previous processor. I can spare…I can't spare six right now. But I will be after next week, when the O.S. upgrade is done. They're deprecating XP and Vista."

"Who is?" Daryl asked, frowning. "Wait – no. Who the Hell's still running XP and Vista? That shit's almost old enough to legally drive."

Gareth huffed. "Some of our smaller businesses. The cheap ones, of course." He rolled his eyes. "I've got a team travelling to each place to do to the upgrade. It'll be done by the end of next week, though, so when they're back, Dale, they're yours."

"Excellent," Michonne said. Rick looked over at Daryl. "Can you have a report on possible banks to us by the end of the week?"

"End of the day," Daryl replied with a nod. Rick's eyes flashed with approval and Daryl's cheeks went pink and he averted his eyes. It was hard to tell if he was being obvious or not, but neither Gareth nor Dale seemed to notice.

"Good," Rick signed. "I think that'll be all for today, gentlemen. Thank you for coming. Gareth, let me know as soon as your team return, and I'll send an email to all of you with minutes from the meeting. We'll follow up on Monday and see where we stand."

Dale and Gareth nodded, smiling, and got to their feet and left the conference room. Daryl blew out a heavy breath, running his hands through his hair.

"Something wrong?" Michonne asked. Daryl hadn't seen Rick sign anything.

He shook his head. "Sometimes just hard to believe this is happening," he said with a small, sheepish smile. "I never thought in a million years I'd be here."

"Nor us," Michonne said with a small smile. Rick was signing again. "Try and focus on international banks, if you can. I mean what I said about going to Canada and Europe. If we can do it from one bank, that would be better."

"Of course," Daryl said with a nod.

Rick smiled and stood, and Michonne and Daryl followed suit. They all left the conference room and headed back to the hallway where Daryl's and Rick's offices were. Michonne walked straight to hers and Rick's office and Daryl went to his, a little thrill running down his spine when Rick followed him into his own office and closed the door behind them.

He turned so that he could see what Rick was saying. Rick was still in CFO mode, it coated his face like a mask, and his eyes were sharp when they landed on Daryl. He didn't say anything and Daryl swallowed.

 _Something else you needed from me?_ he asked, his hands signing the words carefully.

Rick smiled and shook his head, the business presence melting from him like snow in spring. _No. Sorry. I should let you get back to work._

Daryl nodded. They shouldn't let this become a habit. His mouth was still tender from Rick's kisses, his neck and chest was warm from Rick's touch.

Rick hesitated a moment longer, before he shook his head and made his way back to the door. Daryl bit his lip, glad that Rick wasn't able to hear his impatient whine as the man left the room and shut the door behind him again.

Daryl sighed and plopped himself down in his chair on the other side of his desk. He ran his hands through his hair and over his face, shaking his head, and then logged into his computer. He went through his folders, one then the other, until he reached a hidden one he had labeled with the date he'd started it. It was a list of all the suspicious entries he had managed to find from his predecessor's mess of spreadsheets and data, of bank drafts and deposits, and payroll and everything else that might point to discrepancies in the inflow and outflow of money that would point to Blake's embezzlement.

He frowned, looking it over. Some of it had just been mislabeled and wasn't anything really bad after a bit of investigating. It was slow-going, but Daryl thought he might be able to start seeing a pattern.

He looked over at his phone, and picked it up, dialing Michonne's extension.

"Yes?" she answered.

"What's Shane's number?"

She gave it to him, and he thanked her and hung up, before calling Shane.

"Shane Walsh," came the answer.

"Shane, hey, this is Daryl. We met the other day, I'm Rick and Michonne's new hire."

"Daryl, hey," Shane said. Daryl heard a creak as the man sat back in his chair. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you'd have any advice on what kinds of things would look…suspicious. From a money standpoint."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, Rick doesn't want me getting you too involved, which I get, but I've been going over the bank records for the last year or so and it looks like there's a lot of outflow that I can't explain yet. But there's a lot of it. Was hopin' you could help me narrow it down."

Shane hummed. "Well…" He paused, and Daryl let him think for a while. "There are a couple of things. Notable drop in profits. Unexplained deposits or credits to certain customers. Delayed or duplicated deposits or payment entries. Disorganized accounting records." Daryl snorted. Well, they had definitely had that last one. "I'd start by looking for consistent names. Routine drafts for similar or really high amounts."

Daryl nodded to himself. "Thanks, that helps," he said.

"Any time," Shane said, laughing a little under his breath. "How you settlin' in there? Rick bit you yet?"

Daryl flushed, choking on his breath. He knew Shane didn't mean it like _that_ , but -. "Uh, no. No," he said, ducking his head even though Shane wasn't there to see it. "No. Everythin's goin' great."

Shane laughed, knowing and low. "Alright, Daryl. Call me if you need more advice," he said, and the way he said it, Daryl got the impression he wasn't just talking about accounting.

"Thanks, I will," he replied, hanging up quickly after. He turned his eyes back to his spreadsheet, feeling better now that he had an idea of where to start. He had been, initially, going through each entry and researching it until he figured out what it was for. The ones in red were ones he couldn't account for. So far there were almost a dozen.

"Shit," he muttered, and then shifted his weight when his cell phone started ringing. It was Carol. "Hey good lookin'," he answered, smiling.

She giggled and Daryl's smile widened. God, he missed her, and hadn't realized how much until he heard her laugh. "Hey, stranger," she said. "You promised me you'd call!"

"I know, I'm sorry," he answered, feeling guilty. "How've you been?"

"Oh, alright," she said with a sigh. "I got a job as a librarian of all things. I have to wear sweater vests. It's awful!" Daryl laughed again. "But it beats a pantsuit. How are you? Has Mister Silent-Pretty-Boy been making your life interesting?"

Daryl was pretty sure that the blush on his face was going to become permanent at this rate. "Ah, yeah," he said. "Got me workin' on some big projects, fillin' the day nicely…" He trailed off, biting his lip. "We may or may not have made out a few times and he may or may not be taking me to dinner tonight."

"Holy _shit_ ," Carol said, stretching the words out so that they were several seconds long. "You've been holding out on me, you asshole!"

Daryl laughed. "I'm sorry," he said.

"So, what's it like? Is he a good kisser? Does he make noises?"

"Jesus Christ, you're a bad person. This is why I don’t tell you things."

"You don't tell me things because you're a bitch who likes to torture me. But you didn't answer my question."

"I'm not telling you that," Daryl griped.

"So that's a 'Yes'."

"Goddamnit," Daryl muttered, rubbing his hand over his face again. "I'm gonna hang up on you if you keep goin' on like that."

"Sorry, sorry," Carol said, and she sighed and Daryl got the distinct impression that she was rolling her eyes. "But you're not allowed to hold out on me like that." She sighed again. "I did call you for a reason," she added, and Daryl let out a hum of encouragement. "Negan fired Tara."

Daryl's eyes widened. " _What_?" he demanded, sitting up in his seat. "What the _fuck_? Are you serious?"

"Yeah. She called me when he did it. He claimed she had been coming in late too many times, hadn't been doing her work properly and talking to her girlfriend too much on work Skype. No idea how much of it is B.S. but…"

"What the actual fuck," Daryl snarled. He was _sure_ that had to count against the contract. It _had_ to. Negan was blatantly going against what they'd agreed upon – but then again, had the contract actually said Negan wasn't allowed to fire people? He'd have to go over it again and read it, he couldn't remember. Andrea's business card burned on the inside of his pocket. "I swear to God I'm gonna drive back up there and choke the fucker out."

"I'm not sure there's anything you can do," Carol said sadly. "But I wanted to let you know. I know you liked her."

"She's a good kid," Daryl replied. His phone chimed with a text message and Daryl looked to see that it was from Rick. "Shit, I gotta go. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay, Pookie. Enjoy your dinner!" Carol said brightly, and then Daryl hung up. He set his phone down and put his elbows on his desk, his head in his hands, and let out a growl of frustration. It was taking everything in him not to call Negan right that second and cuss the everloving fuck out of him. It wouldn't do him any favors – this is what Negan had threatened, after all. The whole department dropping like flies until Daryl produced results.

But he was determined now. He would _not_ betray Rick. He wouldn't fucking do it. He'd get out of the contract and let the pieces fall where they may but he would not give away the man's secrets or his trust to someone like Negan.

He entertained himself with picturing very graphic and long ways for Negan to suffer and die before he felt calm enough to look at his phone. He opened his text messages from Rick.

_So I was thinking Thai food tonight. How does that sound?_

Daryl smiled, unable to help himself. He couldn't feel angry when looking at Rick's messages, or being around him. _Sounds great,_ he texted back.

_Excellent. There's a restaurant just around the block. If you'd like we can go straight there after work for Happy Hour. They have good draft selections._

_I'd like that,_ Daryl replied, smiling to himself as he sent the message. He didn't want to come off as too eager, but found the message irrationally coy. _What time do you think?_

There was a long pause before Rick's answer, enough that Daryl started to get anxious.

_Happy Hour starts at six and frankly I don't have a lot of pressing matters to attend to right now. So, if you'd like, we can do six._

_Six works for me,_ Daryl texted. _I'll come to your office?_

_Excellent. I'll see you then, Daryl._

It was almost four and Daryl's gut clenched, ridiculous butterflies gathering in his stomach. How the fuck was he supposed to focus for the next two hours when the promise of good food and company awaited him at the end of the day?

Then, a though occurred to him that hadn't before: Rick had made no mention of Michonne being there. Of course, the two were essentially one unit so it would be silly to think that she wouldn't be there, if nothing more than to serve as translator for the heavier conversation, but part of Daryl thought that she might not be, and it made the anxious feeling in his stomach flutter that much more.

"Shit," he muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. He closed down his spreadsheet and stood up, too restless to keep staring at his computer. Before he left, he pulled up YouTube and videos of sign language and started to play a video list he'd made when he had first been given the job offer for Rick. It never hurt to refresh himself, and if he happened to add a few videos specifically mentioning _dirty_ sign language, well, that was his business, and it would be funny to watch Rick's eyes get all wide when and if Daryl ever had to use the signs.

He spent a good half hour watching videos and practicing, before his phone started to ring. He recognized the number although it wasn't one of his contacts – it was Andrea Harrison.

"Hello?" he asked, pausing the video and answering the phone.

"Mister Dixon, hello, this is Andrea Harrison," came her voice, quick and clipped. "Do you have a moment?"

"Yeah, of course," Daryl said, standing and walking back to the back of his office where the window was. He pulled the blinds up, squinting at the afternoon sun as it started to disappear behind the neighboring skyscrapers.

"I discussed your contract with my partner and we're willing to pursue this case," she said. "I think we have a strong course if we can prove that Carol was essential to you continuing your productivity under Negan's employment."

"He fired another coworker of mine," Daryl said. "I emailed her a request for closure forms for the accounts, when we're ready to switch. Never got them from her, but I know she could have sent them. You think that's another thing?"

"Definitely," Andrea said, and she sounded like she was smiling. "Do you have her name and contact information?"

"Yeah. Tara Chambler," he said, and gave Andrea her number. She thanked him and told him she'd be in touch and then hung up the phone. Daryl smiled, viciously pleased at the news. It would be such sweet justice if Andrea spoke to Tara and got the information about her termination as well. Hell, maybe she could file for unlawful termination as well. Wouldn't that just be a cherry on top of the cake.

He felt better than he had in a while, thinking about the contract. Things were really starting to look up. Maybe this wouldn't all blow up in his face.

Who was he kidding? Of course it would. But maybe not as bad as he feared. He sighed, turning his attention back to his videos. It was almost five. One more hour, and then he could go see Rick. He could have dinner with him, share drinks with him, watch him laugh. Did drunk deaf people slur when they signed? Daryl had a hard time imagining Rick could look any better, but the image of him, red-cheeked and grinning, was a promising start.

One more hour. Then Daryl could find out for real.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff'n'thaaaaaaaaaaaangs  
> New tags!
> 
> Also it was pointed out that I (AGAIN) re-used characters already mentioned. I don't know why this is so hard for me, lmao. Dale works for Rick now ignore whatever it was he did before.
> 
> And yes I totally stole the drinking game for GoT I DON'T KNOW HOW DATES WORK OKAY I HAVEN'T BEEN ON ONE IN YEARS.

The clock crawled to six like it had a personal vendetta against Daryl's patience and his poor nerves, but finally the hour struck. Daryl sighed, his stomach fluttery with anticipation, and closed out of his files and locked his computer, before he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and left his office, shrugging it on as he went.

He walked down to Rick's office and knocked on the door. There was no answer, and he frowned, checking his watch again. Maybe Rick and Michonne had been called to another meeting, or were waiting for him downstairs – but he was sure Rick would have let him know if either of those things were happening.

He took out his phone and texted Rick; _You in your office?_

A moment later the door opened, revealing Rick, who smiled and him and gestured for him to come in. _No Michonne?_ Daryl signed, noticing the lack of her in the office.

Rick shook his head, moving back to his desk. _She had to leave to pick up her son. It'll just be the two of us._ He paused for a second, looking up, a flicker of worry crossing his face. _That's okay with you, right?_

 _Of course,_ Daryl replied, and tried not to make the signs look too eager. Rick smiled again and sat down behind his computer.

_I just have one more thing to take care of. Please, sit._

Daryl obeyed, sighing as he settled into one of the comfortable leather chairs on the inner part of the L in Rick's office. He swung back and forth lazily, taking in the rest of the décor that he hadn't bothered to look at before. There were certificates and plaques on the wall, and a newspaper clipping on a story of the unveiling of the building. Classic CFO things, like straight out of a magazine.

Rick closed out of his computer and stood and Daryl followed suit, waiting until Rick put on his coat and they both left the office. Rick locked his door behind him and they walked towards the elevators, Daryl just a half-step behind Rick, to his right.

They walked in a comfortable silence. It stretched out through the elevator ride and out of the lobby. Daryl bid a good night to Jacqui, who was still at the receptionist desk, and then they made their way outside. The weather was chill, a breeze whipping at both of them as they stepped outside despite the fact that the sun was still in the sky. Daryl shivered and pulled his coat tighter around himself.

Rick led the way to the Thai restaurant. It was a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, down an alley, with bright posters on its tinted windows sporting pictures of its food and drinks. Daryl smiled, his stomach rumbling. The scent of pork and rice wafted into the alley from the door and Rick smiled at him, before he opened the door and stepped inside.

Daryl winced, startled by how _loud_ it was on the inside. There were conversations going on all around him, blaringly loud, and he had a second to wonder how Rick could stand it before he remembered that stuff like this wouldn't bother Rick at all. The wall of white noise washed over him and then they were greeted by a woman who smiled at them both, nodding at Rick in greeting.

Rick held up two fingers and she nodded again, before leading them to a booth in the back corner that was a little removed from the bustle of the main restaurant. It was quieter here, enough that Daryl was more comfortable, but he could still hear the incredible amount of talking and chattering from the other patrons as they took their seats.

The woman gave them two menus and walked away. The menus were all in Thai, no English visible anywhere, but there were pictures. Rick set his menu down – he probably came here enough that he ordered the same thing, and Daryl tried to decide as quickly as he could so that he could focus on conversation when it was time to start talking.

The woman returned after another moment and Rick smiled at her. _Hello, Evelyn. How are you today?_

 _Better for seeing you,_ the woman replied, signing back effortlessly. Her smile was bright, her face soft, expression fond like Rick was one of her favorite children coming home for a visit from college. She nodded at Daryl. _New friend?_

_Yes._

_Can he sign?_

_A little,_ Daryl said, speaking for himself. She grinned at him, apparently pleased.

 _He's being -._ Daryl frowned, not knowing the word Rick signed, and Rick spelled it out for him. M-O-D-E-S-T. Daryl blushed. _Can I get my usual?_

 _Naturally,_ Evelyn replied, before turning to Daryl.

Daryl pointed at the image of what looked like sweet pork, heavily glazed and sitting on a bed of rice and Evelyn nodded again, taking the menus from them both. _And to drink?_ she signed to him.

Daryl shrugged. "Whatever he's having," he replied. He wasn't too picky when it came to beers, having grown up mostly on whiskey and moonshine whenever he got a hold of it. Evelyn nodded again and walked away with their order, shouting to another waiter as she did so.

Then a man came forward with two glasses of ice water and left them on their table, and Rick and Daryl were left alone while they waited for their other drinks. Despite the noise, Daryl felt like he was in a bubble – with Rick's eyes on him he felt like he was the only person in the world, the only person who mattered. It was a decadent feeling.

He bit his lip, looking down at his hands, and looked up when Rick laughed – a soft thing that Daryl somehow still heard amongst the din. _You're nervous,_ he signed, and Daryl didn't know if he was stating fact or asking. Were the signs different for that?

 _Maybe_ , he signed back.

Rick cocked his head to one side. _Am I that scary?_

Daryl blushed, shaking his head.

Evelyn returned with their drinks – two pints of frothy, light-colored beer. Daryl smiled and thanked her and took a sip as she walked away. The beer was light and sweet and tasted vaguely of cinnamon. He found it endearing that Rick had such a sweet tooth.

Rick smiled at him again after a moment. _I don't want you to be nervous around me, Daryl._

 _I'm sorry,_ Daryl signed back, before he sighed. _I guess I just need to know…is this a date, or just dinner?_

Rick blinked at him. _Do you want it to be 'just dinner'?_

 _No_ , Daryl replied, before he could chicken out and stop himself replying honestly. He owed it to Rick to be honest – as much as he could be. _No, I don't want it to be that._

 _Good. Neither do I,_ Rick said, smiling.

Daryl breathed out a sigh of relief and took another sip of his beer. Rick followed suit, letting out a quiet hum of appreciation when he set the glass back down. Daryl searched for something to talk about, but he couldn't think of a single damn thing that wasn't work related, and he didn't want to _talk_ about work. First dates, or whatever the Hell this counted as, weren't the place where you talked shop.

Rick took pity on him after a moment. _Any luck with finding somewhere to live?_

Daryl shook his head. _Someone who works at the hotel -._ He hesitated, not knowing the words. "The door guy mentioned an apartment complex a few blocks away from it. It's a decent commute. I was hoping to go look sometime this weekend and see if there's anything there." He spoke quietly, knowing he didn't have to shout to make himself understood.

Rick nodded. _When I first moved to Atlanta, it was awful trying to find a place._

_Do you live close to the office?_

Rick's eyes flashed, and Daryl got the distinct impression that he was thinking something very different from the innocent question. _Yes. My house is a few blocks away._

Daryl's cheeks went pink and he couldn't stop the thought that that meant he didn't have to worry about driving home tonight if he didn't want to. And he was sure, in that moment, that Rick was thinking the same thing.

He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands again.

 _Do you think you'll go back to school?_ Rick asked, the movements of his hands drawing Daryl's eyes again. _I know you mentioned that, back in Virginia._

Daryl shrugged. _Maybe. I'll have enough money to, at least. But I don't know._

 _I had a lot of fun in college, myself,_ Rick said, his expression going wistful. _Business isn't the most exciting degree, but I had good friends to keep me sane._

_You met Michonne there, right?_

Rick nodded. _Shane was with me as well. He always had a way of making things interesting._ Rick's eyes flashed, turning calculating for a moment. _There was a game he always liked to play with new people. Would you like to hear it?_

Daryl nodded.

 _It works like this,_ Rick said, straightening up. _I say something about myself. You have to guess if it's a lie. If you're right, I drink – if you're wrong, you drink._

Daryl licked his lips. "Sounds simple enough."

Rick smirked, eager and ready. He looked good like that, Daryl decided, like he was a wildcat prowling through the undergrowth and waiting for the right moment to lunge. Daryl felt his chest get tight with something that definitely wasn't anxiety.

 _I'll go first,_ Rick said, before he paused and thought. _I have a brother. He's in Spain right now – moved there for college and decided to stay._

Daryl watched his face for a moment, licking his lips. "Truth," he said, and Rick grinned, nodding, and took a sip of his beer. _Do you speak to him often?_

 _He emails me every now and again – and our mom – just to confirm he's still alive. From what I understand he's getting married soon._ Rick shrugs. _Maybe I'll fly him out here for Christmas. Mom would like that._

Daryl smiled, overcome with affection at that.

Then, Rick's smile turn wicked and he gestured towards Daryl. _Your turn._

Daryl cleared his throat, one hand nervously fidgeting with his chopsticks, still wrapped, and his fork. "Uh…" He tried to think of something, unsure if he wanted to lie to Rick or not. He cleared his throat. "I have a brother, too – older."

Rick's eyes narrowed, before he nodded. _That's the truth,_ he said, and Daryl smiled and took a drink. _Are you two close?_

Daryl shook his head. "He, ah, went down a bad road after our dad died. Got himself locked up in the State Penn. Haven't seen him in years."

 _I'm sorry,_ Rick said, his eyes soft and sad.

"It doesn't bother me," Daryl replied, as honest as he could make it. "He made his decisions. Bad ones. Maybe he'll get out and get clean, maybe he won't. It's up to him."

_He much older than you?_

_About eight years,_ Daryl replied.

Rick nodded, pressing his lips together. _Alright. My turn._ He hummed, scratching at the stubble coating his jaw. His cheeks were already starting to flush from the heat of the restaurant and the alcohol and Daryl smirked to himself, amused at the idea that Rick might be a lightweight. _Shane's always had horses. Before Troublemaker he had this gelding called Wallace. Wallace spooked one day and took off running with me still on him. We ran around six miles and got lost for hours because he wouldn't turn back home and I couldn't make him. Shane found me at almost midnight in the woods by his house._

Daryl smiled. _That's a lie,_ he signed. _Shane didn't get that farm until he married Lori. You were both adults by then._

Rick grinned at him, his expression pleased, and he took a drink of his beer. _I did get lost, once,_ he admitted. _But it was on Troublemaker when I was still training him._

Daryl laughed, startled by the admission and almost choking on his beer. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and huffed. "I can't imagine that," he said, and Rick smiled again, blushing and ducking his head.

 _It's true,_ he signed, laughing to himself.

"But you're such a good rider now," Daryl said.

 _Everything comes with practice,_ Rick replied with a shrug. _No one's born like that._

Daryl nodded, accepting that, still grinning at the idea of Rick, lost on his wild horse, desperately trying to get him to turn around and the horse having none of it. It didn't seem out of place from what he'd seen of the horse's personality.

"Alright, me now…" He cocked his head to one side, thinking. "Alright. When I was a kid I'd spent days out in the woods. I'm talkin' eight, nine years old. I have a crossbow and my dad and brother taught me to hunt and I'd just go out and hunt for myself, camp out in the woods, for as long as I was able."

Rick regarded him for a long moment, before he bit his lower lip. _I feel like that's the truth, but I'm going to say it's a lie just because of your age._

Daryl smirked at him. _Drink_ , he commanded, and Rick blinked at him but obeyed, taking another long pull. His beer was almost empty now. _You're bad at this game._

Rick smiled at him. _Do you still have that crossbow?_

Daryl nodded.

_I haven't gone camping in years. Would that still be something that interests you?_

Daryl blinked at him. _You want to go camping with me?_

Rick nodded. _I think it'd be fun._

Daryl smiled. _Yeah,_ he signed. "Shit, that'd be awesome. I never went in V.A. It'll be good to do now that I'm home."

Rick's smile softened when he said that, and then Evelyn returned with their food. She placed the plates in front of them – it smelled amazing and Daryl's stomach rumbled heartily as it was set in front of him. Rick had gotten some kind of soup, thick with noodles and chunks of beef.

 _Another beer?_ Evelyn asked, pointing at Rick's almost-empty glass. Rick nodded and she smiled and disappeared. When she came back she had two more beers and set it in front of them. _You boys need anything else?_

 _We're good, thanks,_ Rick said, and Daryl nodded in agreement, and she left again. For a moment neither of them spoke, tucking into their food readily. The pork was sweet and had just a hint of spice afterwards, the rice sticky and almost too hot to eat. It was delicious food and he gave a groan of appreciation.

 _How often do you eat here?_ he asked after a moment.

 _At least once a week. I've been coming here since I started working for Blake. Evelyn is the only waitress in the area that can sign and I guess we just hit it off._ Rick laughed quietly, shaking his head. _I think she thinks of me as another child to feed. She has nine._

"Jesus Christ," Daryl muttered. He took another bite and washed it down with his water, the ice had already melted and moisture glistened on the sides of the glass. "Your turn for a confession, if you still wanna play."

Rick nodded. _I sucked my first dick when I was in college. One of Shane's friends. Shane still doesn't know I did it._

Daryl's eyes went wide and he damn near died choking on his mouthful of pork. He gasped and scrambled for his water, taking a long drink. Rick laughed, loud and rough, clapping his hands together at Daryl's visible distress.

"Holy shit," Daryl gasps, glaring at Rick. "That's gotta be true."

Rick's smile turned wicked and he shook his head. _Drink_ , he said, and Daryl gaped at him, but took a long pull of his beer anyway. _It wasn't one of Shane's friends. And it wasn't in college._ He let out another laugh. _I knew you were holding out on me._

Daryl coughed, rubbing his hand against his chest. "What do you mean?"

_Well, you knew the sign for 'kiss' before I told you. Wanted to know if you knew anything else._

Daryl glared at him again but he couldn't stay mad, not when Rick was looking so damn pleased with himself. "Asshole," he muttered, and Rick let out another low, rumbling laugh. Well, fine. Two could play at this game.

He took another drink of water to calm his tender throat, and licked his lips, setting the glass down again. _The first time I let a guy fuck me I came so hard I blacked out for almost an hour._

Rick blinked at him, his eyes going wide and dark. His fingers twitched as though wanting to reach out for Daryl and Daryl met his gaze steadily, watching each little thought as it flickered and moved Rick's shocked expression.

Finally he cleared his throat, shifting in place on his seat. _Lie._

Daryl smirked and took a drink of his beer and Rick cocked his head to one side in question. _First guy didn't get me off,_ he signed. _Lasted all of about twenty seconds and then he passed out._ He rolled his eyes.

Rick huffed a laugh. _Is that what you normally like?_ he asked, and Daryl raised an eyebrow. _I mean – taking it. Receiving._

 _I like both,_ Daryl replied. _I read the room._

Rick nodded and Daryl smiled. _It's your turn, Rick._

Rick smirked, lowering his eyes, and took another bite of his soup. _I only top._

Daryl's eyes narrowed. He knew Rick was capable of it – the commanding presence that sat so well on him like one of his fitted suits – but he'd also seen Rick when he was shy and sweet, the man who cried at Disney movies and was so gentle whenever he touched Daryl. _That's a lie_.

 _You're right_ , Rick replied, taking a drink. His first beer was gone and he started on the second. _I like to read the room._

_You're good at that._

_I'm told I'm good at a lot of things._

It was a challenge. Daryl knew it, Rick knew it. Hell, the whole damn restaurant might be able to sense it as much as Daryl was paying attention to them. He was feeling braver, now – Rick was obviously comfortable enough to tease him, and if this was a date, well, Daryl had never been the kind of guy to wait for the third one.

 _I'll be the judge of that,_ he signed, and Rick smirked, eyes flashing in approval.

They went back to eating but Daryl was buzzing too much to savor the meal. Evelyn checked on them one more time before she slid the check into place and bid them both a good night. Daryl knew he'd be coming back for the food alone. Daryl paid for the check. He didn't offer to split it and Rick didn't ask.

The two beers weren't enough to get him drunk but he was well on his way to pleasantly tipsy by the time they were finished eating and stood to leave. Rick led the way out of the restaurant and Daryl followed. The chill air and the sudden silence outside came as a shock and he gasped, pulling his jacket tightly around his body to shield himself from the wind.

Rick didn't seem to notice. His cheeks were stained a pretty pink, his eyes almost glowing in the illumination of the street lamps. He turned to regard Daryl and Daryl met his eyes, challenging. Rick licks his lips and jerked his head out of the alley, away from the office. Probably towards his place. Daryl nodded and Rick smiled.

They didn't hold hands as they walked, nor did they stand close together. Daryl understood that – this was Georgia, after all, and so close to Rick's homophobic workplace he was sure that while affection wouldn't be unwelcome, it would be out of place. Still, he was jittery with anticipation as he followed Rick down the city streets. Soon the urban backdrop melted away with a startling suddenness, revealing a block of townhouses made of brick.

Rick led him through the gates and towards the farthest set which were swathed in darkness. The light overhead flickered as they passed. There were five townhouses in a row, cars parked out front, the picture of suburban paradise. Rick's house was the last one, the ending building, and had two doors – one with steps leading up to the front, and then a small footpath leading around to the side. Rick led him there and opened the door quietly, ushering Daryl inside.

Inside Rick's house is was pleasantly warm and Daryl sighed, shedding his jacket immediately. There was a small part of the floor that was wood, and a set of steps leading up to the main landing where a cream carpet started. Stairs led up to the upper level on his right, the open living room and kitchen to his left. It was a comfortable-looking place, the home of someone who enjoyed relaxing here whenever he got the chance. The couches were a dark brown and leather, the bookshelves the same color, made of wood. It was richly but tastefully furnished, the kind of place where the owner had money but preferred to spend it on trips and outings rather than furniture and art.

He took off his shoes as Rick did and walked into the living room area, taking it all in. There was a framed picture above the fireplace of Rick, Shane, and Lori, all hugging and smiling, one of Shane's hands on Lori's distended stomach. They looked much younger and Daryl knew this was a picture from when Lori was pregnant with Carl.

He smiled, warm with affection at seeing the photograph, and then he felt Rick's presence behind him. He turned and Rick was looking at the photo too, his face lax and happy, and then he met Daryl's eyes and his gaze sharpened.

Daryl licked his lips, smiling. _I want you to kiss me_ , he signed. Rick's eyes flashed down to watch his hands, before darting back up, and he nodded.

He reached out and took Daryl's hand, thumb rubbing across the inside of his wrist _so_ gently, and then he leaned in and Daryl met him for a kiss. Daryl moaned quietly, opening his mouth to the press of Rick's tongue, and turned all the way so that he could press up against Rick's chest and put a hand in his hair.

Rick mirrored him, cupping Daryl's nape, thumb resting just under his jaw. He was breathing heavily, his mouth sweet from his beer and Daryl shivered. With the alcohol in his system he was loose and relaxed and Rick was a little braver, a little bolder in the way he kissed Daryl, like he was intent on stealing every breath from Daryl's lungs.

Daryl let out another rough sound, fisting his hands tightly in Rick's coat so that he could push it off his shoulders. Rick let him, tugging the coat from his arms and tossing it to land on the couch. But Daryl couldn't stop it there, he _couldn't_. His hands went to Rick's suit jacket next, pushing at the halves, and Rick laughed against his mouth but allowed him to remove that, too.

They parted from each other when they could spare no more air. Both breathing heavily, staring at each other. Daryl's fingers curled – he wanted so desperately to touch Rick, to feel his warmth under his hands. Rick seemed to feel the same way because he dove in for another kiss almost immediately, his hands spreading out on Daryl's flanks and curling in his belt.

Daryl moaned again, tugging on Rick's hair to get them to part so that he could sign; _You wanna fuck me, Rick?_

Rick's dark eyes widened and he licked his lips. _Is that what you want?_

Daryl growled at him. _Not what I asked._

Rick bit his lower lip, tender from Daryl's mouth, and he nodded. _Yes, I want to. But I don't want to rush anything._

"Ain't rushin' if we both want it," Daryl replied.

Rick smiled, and nodded, before he grabbed Daryl's hand again and started to lead him up the stairs. Daryl followed eagerly, going to Rick's bedroom. It was a plan room, a closet and chest of drawers and his big bed the only evidence that anyone lived here at all. The bed was messy and Daryl laughed, amused that Rick – all put-together, in-control CFO – would have a messy bed.

Rick rolled his eyes as though knowing why Daryl was laughing. _I wasn't expecting guests._

"I don't care," Daryl replied, and tugged Rick into another kiss.

Rick growled against him, this bass and rumbling thing, and shoved Daryl onto the bed. Daryl stumbled, unsteady, his knees hardly holding him up, and fell onto his back on the bed with a breathless laugh and then Rick was covering him, crawling into place between his legs. He sat up and Daryl straightened up to meet him, tugging on his hair and kissing him roughly as Rick's hands went to their clothing. Daryl tugged on Rick's tie, wrapping it around his wrist for just a moment until Rick let out another breathless growl, and then he tugged on the knot to loosen it and broke the kiss for long enough to pull it over his head.

Rick unbuttoned his shirt and Daryl shrugged it off, baring his chest to Rick's greedy hands. It felt like Rick wouldn't be happy until he had touched every part of Daryl, he was brazen with his touches, cataloguing each dip and line of muscle as though it was his own personal map. Daryl pawed at Rick's clothes as well, desperate to feel his warm skin under his hands. Soon they both had their shirts off and Rick shoved Daryl onto his back again and leaned over him, grinding their bodies together in something rough and needy.

Daryl groaned when he felt Rick's cock rubbing against his through their slacks. It was a heady feeling, knowing Rick was just as affected as he was. Rick kissed him again, stealing his breath, and then his hands went to Daryl's belt. Daryl arched up to help him pull it free and he tossed it to one side, then his hands went to Daryl's slacks, unbuttoning and unzipping them, and he dipped one hand inside to wrap around Daryl's cock and pull it free.

Daryl gasped, swallowing harshly when Rick touched him. Rick pulled back so that he could see, and let out a pleased noise as he stroked up Daryl's hard cock, coaxing a bead of precome from the head. He swiped his thumb through it and then lifted it up to taste.

"Fuck," Daryl whispered, his eyes wide as he watched. Rick smirked at him, wicked, mischievous.

"You taste good," he said, actually _saying_ the words, and Daryl felt arousal hit him behind the eyes like a physical blow.

" _Fuck_ ," he whispered. "I love hearin' you talk."

Rick cocked his head to one side, eyebrow raised. He grinned and leaned down for another kiss, his hand going back to Daryl's cock and Daryl moaned, loudly, arching up into the touch. His hands raked down Rick's back until they hit the other man's slacks and he let out an impatient noise.

"You're wearin' too many clothes, Rick."

Rick nodded, pulling back to give Daryl room to see as he unbuttoned Rick's slacks and unzipped him, pulling them down along with his underwear until Rick's cock was free as well. They kicked at their clothes, getting completely bare, and then Rick covered Daryl again and the feeling of his bare cock rubbing against Daryl's was so damn good, Daryl thought he might go crazy if Rick didn't fuck him soon.

Rick kissed his mouth, and then his jaw, and licked a thick stripe down Daryl's neck. Daryl moaned, baring his throat to Rick's lips and shivering when he felt the edge of teeth there. His neck had always been sensitive, it was like Rick knew.

Then Rick pulled back again and his gaze felt like it pierced Daryl where he lay. "Stay there," he commanded, and Daryl nodded, breathing heavily. Rick got up off the bed and went to his chest of drawers, pulling open the top one. He retrieved a bottle of lube and a condom and returned to Daryl, setting them down on the bed by Daryl's thigh.

 _How long has it been for you?_ Rick asked.

Daryl swallowed. _A long time._

Rick nodded. _I'll go slow_ , he promised, and Daryl nodded in agreement. Rick leaned down for another kiss, this one sweeter as though he needed to coax Daryl into submission, into accepting whatever Rick might put inside him. Daryl didn't need convincing, but it was sweet to know that Rick was going to take his time and make it good for him all the same.

Rick pulled back and grabbed the lube bottle, opening it with a quiet _snick_ and squirting some onto his hands. Daryl bit his lip and spread his legs out a little wider to give him room and he shivered at Rick's gentle hum of approval.

"Got another confession to make," he said as Rick put a hand on his thigh to keep him steady, the other gently circling his wet fingers around Daryl's rim. Rick didn't move his gaze away from Daryl's mouth, so that he could understand while he got Daryl ready.

Rick bit his lower lip and made a sound of encouragement.

"I've thought about you fuckin' me before," he said. Rick blinked at him, his breath leaving him in a heavy exhale. He curled all of his fingers but one and teased the fingertip against Daryl's ass, testing the give of him there. Daryl whined, arching up against it as best he could, one of his hands finding Rick's on his thigh and squeezing tight. "The day you kissed me. That morning. I had a dream about it."

"Tell me," Rick commanded, out loud since his hands weren't free. His voice was rough from disuse, low and raspy. It was doing all kinds of unfair things to Daryl's head to hear him speaking.

"I – I dreamed you were fucking me, oh – fuck, Rick!" Daryl cut himself off, whining as Rick started to work his first finger inside of Daryl. He went slowly just as he'd promised, but it was still a shock to his system. He clenched up and put his free hand in his hair, tugging on it the way he liked. His cock twitched and spurted another trail of precome, sticky and shining on his stomach. Rick growled, working his finger in a little more deeply. "The way you said my name, that first time, drove me fuckin' crazy. Thought about you fuckin' me from behind and about how you'd sound when you did it."

Rick smiled, taking Daryl's hand from his thigh and bringing it to his lips. He kissed Daryl's palm, then the inside of his wrist, and sank his finger in a little more deeply. Daryl whined, already starting to shake.

"Keep going," Rick whispered. He spoke the words quietly, as though afraid of saying them wrong, but it was perfect – good _God_ , Rick's voice sounded good, like a treat Daryl was only allowed at special times of the year. He'd sell his fucking soul if it meant Rick talked to him just like this for the rest of his damn life.

"Rick, _please_ ," Daryl gasped. He dragged his hand down Rick's chest and clenched up around his finger. "Gimme another."

Rick obeyed, pulling his first finger out and then pressing two against Daryl's ass. Daryl moaned loudly, glad that his body was relaxing into the dance he had denied it for so long. Everything with Rick was so fucking _easy_ , it blew his mind, like his body knew Rick's touch already and welcomed it with grace.

"You're so tight," Rick said, sliding his fingers in as deeply as he could and Daryl whined, gasping heavily when Rick curled his fingers up. He knew what Rick was searching for, anticipated the touch like a punch, and when it came, Rick's fingertips brushing oh-so-lightly over his prostate, he jerked and moaned, his thighs trembling at the shock of pleasure.

Rick grinned, a pleased rumble stuck in his throat, and touched him there again. Daryl gasped, tugging on his hair more tightly. Rick saw it – of course he did. He pulled his fingers out and Daryl let out a whine of frustration.

 _Get on your stomach,_ Rick signed, his lube-slick fingers catching the light, and Daryl whimpered and rolled onto his elbows and knees, lifting himself up for Rick. Rick slid his fingers against Daryl's rim again and sank them back inside and Daryl moaned weakly.

Then Rick slid closer and his free hand wrapped in Daryl's hair, pulling harshly to one side, and Rick laid over his back, his mouth at Daryl's neck. Daryl shivered, biting his lower lip, his hands clenching in the messy pile of sheets beneath him.

"What else do you like?" Rick asked, just as his fingers found Daryl's prostate again and started touching him there without pause. Daryl shuddered and moaned, and grabbed weakly at the hand in his hair. He slid it to his neck, forcing Rick's hand flat against his throat. Rick gave a small squeeze and Daryl shivered again, nodding in encouragement.

Rick paused for a moment, and then he moved so that Daryl could see him. He let go of Daryl's neck and pulled his fingers out so that he could sign; _If I do something you don't like, I want you to knock on the headboard. Twice. Okay?_

Daryl nodded. _I understand_.

 _Good_. And Rick kissed him like he couldn't resist, sliding back into place behind Daryl. He didn't put his fingers back in but Daryl heard the condom rustling and he whined, arching up in invitation as Rick opened the condom and rolled it down his cock.

It was smart of Rick to ask. Like this he couldn't see Daryl's face, wouldn't know if Daryl was speaking to him, and they couldn't sign to each other either. It was a good solution and Daryl felt warm knowing that Rick was considerate enough to put such a safeguard in place before they got too far.

Rick's hands flattened on Daryl's back, helping him into a better position for Rick to fuck him. Daryl shivered, feeling Rick's cock brushing against his thigh. "Daryl," Rick growled, and Daryl shivered – a full-body hit of lightning right down his spine. He would never get tired of hearing Rick say his name. He was sure it was going to fill his dreams for the rest of his life. "You ready?"

"Yeah," Daryl replied, and nodded as well so that Rick could see.

Rick let out a shaky exhale, and then let go of Daryl with one hand so that he could position his cock at Daryl's hole. He started to push inside and Daryl went tense, he was bigger than two fingers, of course he was. But his body understood this, it knew what to do – and it was _Rick_ , which somehow made everything easier even though Daryl hadn't known the man longer than a month.

He forced himself to relax and take Rick's cock as Rick started to push inside. The sound Rick let out was sinful and loud, a low growl that Daryl felt as though he had made the sound himself. He shoved his hands against the mattress and pushed back, eager to take all of Rick in with one smooth thrust.

He gasped when he felt Rick filling him up, inch by thick inch, and then Rick's thighs were pressed against the back of his and Daryl sighed, satisfied to the bone at the feeling of Rick filling him up. He could already tell it was going to be better than the few, sad one-night-stands he'd had in the past.

He clenched up around Rick's cock just to hear the low snarl the other man let out, and then Rick's hands tightened on his flanks, one of them slick with lube, and he started to move.

His thrusts were powerful and sent Daryl back to his elbows within a minute. Daryl moaned weakly, clenching his eyes tightly shut as Rick fucked him, driving into his body like he wanted to carve out a permanent space there for himself. The sounds of skin hitting skin were obscenely loud and Daryl loved every sound, every time Rick's hips connected with his ass. He moaned again and moved with Rick and then Rick leaned over him again, teeth at his shoulder, and flattened his slick hand across Daryl's throat.

" _Fuck_ ," Daryl growled, and Rick hummed, tightening his hand like he could feel Daryl talking and he probably could – reacting to each hum and moan he worked from Daryl's throat with another light pressure against his neck. It was fucking perfect, and each growl and moan he managed to wrench from Rick in return was making his gut clench, his stomach and chest tightening.

The bed was creaking, the headboard knocking against the wall, and Daryl loved it. He reached back and wrapped a hand in Rick's hair, tugging in encouragement when Rick opened his mouth and sucked a mark against Daryl's shoulder. Without being able to talk to Rick, to goad him on, Daryl had to rely on his body and the vibrations of his moans to let Rick know he was enjoying himself and so he was liberal with both, gasping whenever Rick choked him just a little harder, moaning whenever Rick put another mark with his teeth and his mouth on Daryl's shoulders.

Rick's other hand left his flank and forced Daryl to bear his weight, and he wrapped his hand around Daryl's hard, leaking cock. He let out a snarl of pleasure when he found Daryl, spreading his precome down his shaft and stroking him with a tight grip.

Daryl was shaking finely, a whine caught in his throat, and then Rick's cock found his prostate and he jerked, cock twitching in Rick's hand. Rick noticed – he always noticed. He tightened his grip on Daryl's cock and worked his hips in at the same angle as best he could, cockhead rubbing against Daryl's prostate with almost every thrust.

"M gonna come," Daryl whispered, though he was sure Rick knew. He put a hand over Rick's, begging him not to let go of his neck, and shoved his face against his other arm, biting down on his forearm as he felt his orgasm approaching.

"Fuck, _Daryl_ ," Rick growled, able to feel Daryl's ass get tight, bearing down on Rick's cock as his orgasm clawed its way down his spine and out of him. Daryl went still, unable to keep moving, and came with a low groan against his arm, spilling hot and wet across Rick's hand.

"Rick, keep goin', _please_ ," Daryl begged, though he knew Rick couldn't hear him. He let go of Rick's hand and reached back, clawing at Rick's hip to goad him into not stopping. He wanted Rick to come, so desperately. Rick was still fucking against his prostate and each touch sent a spasm of pleasure through Daryl's sensitive body. " _Fuck_ , fuck – yes. Keep goin' -."

Rick went still abruptly, letting go of Daryl's neck and cock at once. He put his dirty hand in Daryl's hair and tugged on it until Daryl whined, tilted his head so that Rick could see his face. Rick kissed his red cheek, licked over his sweaty jaw, and fucked in one more time.

" _Daryl_ ," he snarled, right into Daryl's ear, just as Daryl had imagined it. He shook as he came and Daryl moaned, able to feel Rick's cock twitch as he emptied inside the condom. Daryl was breathless, gasping heavily in rhythm with Rick's unsteady breaths. Rick nuzzled against him, breathing out, his eyes closed as he let himself enjoy his orgasm.

Then he pulled out and they both winced at the feeling. Daryl rolled over, away from the wet spot, and pulled Rick into a kiss because how could he not? Rick's mouth was slack, but he kissed back just as fervently as he had done the first time Daryl kissed him, his hands landing on Daryl's chest as though measuring the racing pulse of Daryl's heart there.

Daryl broke first, too out of breath to keep going, and rested his forehead against Rick's. Rick met his gaze readily, expression lax and happy, and then he laughed.

"You do like it when I talk," he said, petting his dirty hand through Daryl's hair again and Daryl didn't even care. He wondered, idly, if he could coax Rick into shower sex when they'd both recovered. He wasn't tired, not in the slightest.

Daryl smirked. "I like _you_ ," he said quietly, as though admitting something very serious. "Everything else is just a bonus."

Rick smiled at him and kissed him like he couldn't bear not to for a moment longer. _Are you going to stay the night?_

Daryl bit his lower lip. _Do you want me to?_

Rick's eyes flashed and he smirked. _That isn't what I asked,_ he signed, throwing Daryl's words back at him from behind, and Daryl laughed.

"Yeah," he said, kissing Rick again. "Yeah. I'll stay."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shower sex and intrigue!

Daryl stirred, consciousness pulling him away from hazy dreams filled with the sensation of hands in his hair, the scent of Old Spice deodorant, the sound of Rick humming and whispering his name in his ear. He shifted his weight and let out a groan of complaint at waking up, burying his face against Rick's warm chest. The duvet was wrapped loosely around their waists, both of them too warm to keep it up around their shoulders. Daryl's mouth was tacky on the inside, his hair knotted awkwardly from the come and sweat Rick had put there, but he was so relaxed and content he couldn't bring himself to give a shit about those details.

Rick pet through his hair, rumbling quietly in greeting, and Daryl pulled his face back and wiped at his eyes to clear them. Rick was lying on his back, his eyes bright and heavy from sleep. His expression was relaxed, it made him look almost boyish, several years younger than Daryl knew he was. Daryl's chest got tight and warm, knowing _he_ was the one to put that look there.

"Mornin'," he murmured, leaning down to kiss lightly at Rick's shoulder. Rick turned his head with another hum, kissing Daryl's forehead, fingers splaying warm and gentle across his nape.

 _Good morning_ , he signed with his free hand. _Sleep well?_

Daryl nodded, stretching out alongside Rick and groaning as his muscles burned and stretched in the best way. His ass was sore and his shoulders twinged and Daryl loved it because he knew why he felt that way, why _Rick_ had made him feel that way.

"Fuck," he grunted, rubbing at his face again. "What time is it?"

_Almost seven._

"Ah, shit." Daryl pushed himself upright and rolled so that he was sitting, biting back a whimper of loss when Rick's hand fell from his neck. "I gotta get back to the hotel and shower, and change."

Rick paused and didn't sign anything, and his silence caught Daryl's attention. Rick was biting his lip, a sheepish look on his face.

Daryl's eyes narrowed. "What?" he asked.

_I may have sent for your things last night. They're downstairs in the living room._

Daryl's eyes widened and he turned so that he could sit and face Rick more fully. "You did _what_?" he demanded. " _Why_?"

Rick shrugged. _I have the room here. There's a guest bedroom if you'd prefer. It's closer to the office and frankly this way the company isn't paying for it while you're trying to find a place to live_. He paused, sitting more upright. His eyes ducked down and he looked guilty. _I overstepped. I shouldn't have assumed. I can have them returned to your room if you'd prefer_.

"No, I -." Daryl reached out and smoothed his hands over Rick's, shocked to find them shaking. Rick was nervous. Rick didn't _get_ nervous. It was yet another side of the man, another facet that Daryl felt like only he was allowed to see.

Rick raised his eyes and licked his lips. His fingers twitched like he wanted to speak but Daryl kept his hands still and Rick didn't try to force them away. Finally, Daryl nodded and let his hands go. Rick's eyes went wide.

 _It doesn't have to be permanent,_ Rick said quickly. _I just…. I like having you around. I'm not ashamed to admit that._

"I know," Daryl replied, too breathless to say much else. "You're too good to me, Rick."

Rick smiled and shook his head. _I'd make you drink if we were still playing the game._

Daryl smiled back. _Is it a lie if I believe it?_

_You could believe the sky is green. It's still wrong._

_But is it a_ lie _?_

Rick rolled his eyes. _Why are you arguing with me when you could be kissing me?_ he signed, and Daryl huffed a laugh but he had to concede that. He crawled forward and straddled Rick's thighs, putting both hands in Rick's hair as Rick touched his hips and they kissed like that – stinking of morning breath but Daryl didn't give a damn. It would go away soon enough.

It was strange. Daryl had thought nothing of packing his life up and moving to a whole different state, and somehow this move of a few blocks was so much more momentous. Rick was asking him to live with him – he could use the guest room if he liked, and it didn't have to be forever, but it _could_ be. And Daryl wouldn't use the guest room, he was sure it was obvious enough to both of them that his preferred place was here, in Rick's bed.

Rick groaned softly against his mouth, tilting his head to deepen the kiss when Daryl nipped at his lower lip. Like this, Daryl could feel Rick's cock twitch and start to harden, his hands tightening more insistently on Daryl's sides as Daryl kissed him. Daryl hummed, rocking in Rick's lap so that Rick could feel how eager he was, how desperately he wanted Rick to keep going, to keep touching him.

Rick pulled away, breathless, and kissed down Daryl's jaw and his exposed neck. "Wanna bite you," he said, his voice even rougher with disuse after sleeping, and Daryl gasped, a lightning-strike of heat running down his spine.

Daryl leaned back enough that Rick could read his lips; "You can."

Rick shook his head, letting out a frustrated little growl. "Not where I want."

Daryl smirked, letting go of Rick's hair with one hand and stroking it across his own neck. Rick's eyes darted down, dark and wide and wanting. He licked his lips and Daryl hummed, leaning in for another kiss.

"I'd let you," Daryl murmured, not sure if Rick could understand him since he spoke between kisses – or maybe Rick knew what he was going to say anyway, because he shivered and pulled on Daryl's back until Daryl was pressed tight to his chest. "I'd let you do whatever the fuck you wanted."

Rick growled, pushing him back so that he could see Daryl's face. He let go to sign; _I want to fuck you again._

Daryl raised an eyebrow in challenge. _What's stopping you?_

Rick's eyes flashed, and then he grabbed Daryl and rolled them so suddenly that Daryl let out a breathless gasp, laughing against Rick's bruising kiss as Rick covered him and slid between his legs, rutting against him. They were still naked – if Rick had gotten dressed to receive Daryl's things he had shed the clothing again to rejoin Daryl in the bed – and Daryl moaned when he felt Rick's hard cock rub against his, hot and smooth.

Rick pulled back and Daryl managed to make his hands sign; _How do you feel about shower sex?_

Rick huffed a laugh, grinning and kissing Daryl like he couldn't make himself stop. _Haven't tried it in a while, but I'm game._

Daryl grinned. "Good," he said, and shoved Rick off of him, both of them climbing out of the bed. Rick took Daryl's wrist in a gentle grip and pulled him close, pressing their bodies tightly together and kissing his cheek, his jaw, his neck.

He led Daryl to the master bathroom. It was a plain, white room. The towels were a dark blue and there was a rug on the floor to match. The shower consisted of a glass door and pale blue tiles on the walls. The mirror above the sink was opposite it and Daryl's gut clenched in anticipation, knowing he'd be able to see Rick fucking him if they got the angle right.

Rick pulled him into the shower and closed the door. _If you want me to stop, open the door,_ he signed, and Daryl nodded, warm with affection again that Rick was so insistent on checking in with him, so aware of their limitations and determined to put in countermeasures just in case.

He kissed Rick and Rick reached around him, shoving the showerhead so it was angled against the wall and turning on the spray. It came out cool at first, Daryl could feel it against his feet, and Rick turned him so he wasn't hit by the spray as they waited for the water to warm up.

Then Rick's eyes flashed and his expression turned wicked. He kissed Daryl, big hands spreading out over his flanks, and then slowly sank to his knees. Daryl's eyes went wide and he put a hand in Rick's hair, clenching tightly, his other one reaching out and planting against the water-slick wall.

"Fuck, you're seriously…" He cut himself off with a choked moan as Rick took his cock in hand, stroking once from root to tip, and then opened his mouth to suck the head of Daryl's cock inside. Daryl groaned, pushing Rick's hair away from his face so he could watch as Rick closed his eyes and sank his mouth down around Daryl's cock. Rick moved one hand to Daryl's chest so he could feel all the sounds Daryl made as he sucked.

Daryl bit his lower lip, moaning softly again as Rick moved his tongue back and forth along Daryl's shaft and below the head of his cock, pulling back a little to suck at the head before sinking back down and taking more of Daryl in his mouth. It felt fucking incredible, the hot, slick tightness of Rick's mouth, the pressure of his tongue. Rick opened his eyes and hummed, his other hand sliding between Daryl's legs to cup his balls and roll them gently as he sank back down.

"God fucking _damnit_ ," Daryl hissed, his hand turning to a fist against the wall. He tugged on Rick's hair experimentally, groaning when Rick obeyed his subtle command to take Daryl a little more deeply, until Daryl hit the back of his throat. He gagged but held himself there for a long moment, his throat spasming up around Daryl's cock, before he pulled off with a gasp. Daryl growled and pulled on Rick's hair, forcing the man to stand, and stole his mouth in a kiss.

Rick smirked, stroking Daryl gently as Daryl shuddered against him, and then he let go to move the showerhead and angle the warm water so that it beat on their shoulders. Daryl shivered, goose bumps rising on his arms.

Rick broke the kiss, lowering his head so lick the water off Daryl's shoulders. He growled and put his hands back on Daryl's flanks. "Turn around," he commanded, and Daryl whimpered and obeyed. Rick moved them so that they both were getting some of the water, the pressure of it beating down on Daryl's back pleasantly. Rick's hand ran down his back, pushing gently until Daryl bent over and planted his hands against the side of the shower walls.

They hadn't brought lube in with them, not that Daryl could see, and he wasn't sure water would be the best replacement. Still, he didn't fight when Rick's fingers tested his rim. He was sore there, sensitive and raw, but his body accepted Rick's finger easily, traces of lube still remaining so that he felt at least a little slick.

Rick growled behind him, sinking his finger inside Daryl's body, and Daryl groaned, arching his back and working his hips onto Rick's finger in encouragement. At this point he didn't give a fuck if he hurt and couldn't sit comfortably later. The thought of Rick leaving him right now was unbearable – he hoped Rick understood that.

Rick bent over him, his cock rubbing between Daryl's thighs and Daryl tightened them, drawing his legs together so that Rick had something to fuck while he stretched Daryl out. Rick rewarded him with a low growl of pleasure and sucked a dark, stinging mark onto Daryl's back.

"Fuck, Rick, _yeah_ ," Daryl groaned, wiping his damp hair from his face as Rick started to work in a second finger. It stung and Daryl moaned, dropping his head and enjoying the feeling of the warm water on his back and Rick's solid heat behind him. His thighs were going to be so sensitive from Rick fucking between them, he could hardly wait.

Rick growled and leaned up, spreading Daryl's ass and Daryl whimpered when he heard Rick spit onto his hole and work it in with his fingers. It was so _dirty_ , unreasonably hot to hear him do that. He did it again and Daryl whimpered, arching his hips back onto Rick's fingers.

Rick pulled his hand out again and smoothed his palms up Daryl's back, fingers curling around his shoulders. "Okay?" he asked, and Daryl understood; _Are you ready? Is this okay?_ He nodded frantically, biting his lower lip hard as Rick pulled his cock from between Daryl's thighs. One hand let go so that he could guide his cockhead against Daryl's hole and start to push inside.

Daryl went tense, whining quietly as Rick penetrated him. It hurt, almost too much with so little stretching and slick, but Daryl was determined to keep Rick with him now. He reached back with one hand, clawing at Rick's hip to encourage him to keep going.

Rick growled and yanked him back, forcing him upright with a hand around his throat. He bit at Daryl's shoulder, sucking another mark there, his free hand reaching around and wrapping tight around Daryl's erection. Daryl shuddered, clenching up around Rick inside of him, and fucked back, rocking his hips desperately between the thickness of Rick inside him and the warm tightness of Rick's wet hand on his cock.

" _Fuck_ ," he hissed, touching Rick's wrist gently but not to tell him to let go. Rick moaned, obviously affected by the difference of fucking Daryl without a condom. Daryl had a moment to wonder if Rick would still come in him, but then Rick started to move and all conscious thought was driven from his mind like snow in spring.

Rick fucked into him harshly and the sound of the water hitting their skin, making it slick, and then their bodies colliding was enough to make Daryl moan. He turned his head to one side to see them in the mirror, pressed tight together, Rick's arms and shoulders tense around Daryl as he held and stroked Daryl. His eyes were closed, face pressed tight to Daryl's shoulder as he continued to lay bites and marks to Daryl's exposed skin.

Daryl moaned, reaching back with his other hand to fist in Rick's wet hair. Rick's eyes flew open and he thrust into Daryl a little more harshly and Daryl saved that information away for later. He imagined how he'd have Rick – he'd put Rick in his lap, make him ride Daryl's cock. Daryl had always liked it when his partners were so drenched with sweat and exhausted that they could barely move by the time he was done with them.

He'd do that to Rick. He'd make Rick ride him and work orgasm after orgasm out of the other man until Rick couldn't even speak properly, let alone sign. Then he'd put Rick on his back and pull on his hair while he fucked him slowly, find out just how many words and sounds he could pull out of Rick before he came, until Rick was so slack and wet and loose he couldn't do anything but lay there and take it.

That image, combined with a low snarl Rick let out into his ear as Daryl clenched up around him, was enough to make him come. He bowed forward and Rick let his neck go so that Daryl could breathe, shuddering and moaning loudly as he spilled sticky-wet over Rick's hand. Rick let his cock go, flattening his hand against Daryl's stomach to keep him still.

He fucked in, a few more short, rabbiting thrusts, before he pulled out and Daryl held still by some unspoken command as Rick stroked his cock and came with a low growl over Daryl's back. It was different than the water, thicker and cooler, and Daryl shivered as Rick came on him. He couldn't fight the feeling that Rick was claiming him, with his hands and his come and his bite marks. The thought sent a warm fissure of pleasure through his body.

He straightened up when Rick let him go, sighing and turning so that he could kiss Rick. Rick smiled against it, lax and chuckling, and Daryl smiled back. They parted long enough to grab shampoo and body wash and actually use the shower for its intended purpose. Then, they turned the water off and stepped into the steamy air of the bathroom. Rick handed him one of the towels and they dried off slowly, touching each other gently at times like it was hard to resist the urge, like they had to touch every now and again.

"Daryl," Rick said after a moment. Daryl lifted his head to look at him and Rick bit his lip. His eyes fell to Daryl's stomach and then he stepped close and brushed a hand over Daryl's back. His fingers lingered on a knot of skin there, one of Daryl's many scars. _You don't have to tell me. Did you get these from hunting?_

Daryl bit his lip, looking away. "There was a reason I stayed out so much as a kid," he said. "Home life wasn't much better."

Rick nodded, his eyes sad. _I'm sorry that happened to you._

Daryl shrugged. "It's in the past."

Rick sighed and shook his head, before pulling Daryl into another gentle kiss. _I won't hurt you like that,_ he promised. _Like Negan did. Like your family did. Ever._

"I know," Daryl replied. Like this, in the quiet solitude of the bathroom, he felt more exposed than ever, but Rick was there which meant it would be okay. Somehow, Rick made everything seem okay and easy.

Rick nodded after another moment, biting his lower lip, before he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. _We can move your things into the guest room, if you'd like._

Daryl smirked. "You're cute when you're nervous," he said, and Rick blushed. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather sleep in your bed than the guest one."

Rick's eyes flashed, happy and eager all at once. _I'd like that_ , he replied, and Daryl nodded, deeming the negotiations over. Rick licked his lips and let out a quiet groan. _I don't know how I'm going to get any work done knowing you're so close._

 _Me too,_ Daryl signed. He wrapped the towel around his waist and Rick followed suit, and led the way into the bedroom. _I'll go get my stuff._

 _Alright,_ Rick replied, going to his chest of drawers to find clothes for the day. Daryl smiled and went downstairs, finding his suitcase and his duffle bag neatly positioned next to where his jacket lay across the arm of the couch. He grabbed his things and carried them upstairs, placing them on the other side of the room where there was a bare stretch of carpet.

They both dressed and then went downstairs to eat breakfast. Rick brewed coffee and they ate cereal at the kitchen island. They talked about Shane, Lori, Carl – about Glenn and how Daryl would call him to get the rest of his stuff from Maggie's house now that he had a place to put it. It was all so wonderfully domestic, so easy and relaxed, Daryl wondered how in all of God's green Earth he had managed to sell his soul and get so lucky.

They went to work separately. Rick walked and Daryl took his motorcycle which had also been delivered (apparently at least one valet at the hotel knew how to drive one). He called Glenn on his commute over to tell him that he had found a place, deliberately avoiding specifics on whose place it was, and agreed to go to Maggie's house with Glenn after work to get the rest of his stuff.

Michonne was already in the office when Daryl arrived. She smirked at him, her eyes dark and knowing, and gave him a small salute before heading into the office she shared with Rick. Daryl smirked to himself, shaking his head, and went to his own office.

He pulled up his files and set about finishing the report for different acquiring banks for Rick, his spreadsheet of suspicious withdrawals and deposits open as well as he worked so that he had a constant reminder and could turn to it when he got bored.

He knew immediately when Rick came to work. He felt it like a change in the air, like his scent was imprinted on Rick and he knew when the other man was there. Rick walked past his office and signed a brief _Hello_ to him, his smile soft and affectionate, and Daryl nodded back, biting his lower lip and shifting in his seat. It was hard to sit down but each twinge, each reminder, made him feel warm and calm.

It was around lunch time, the colors of the spreadsheet branded into the back of his eyes, that he noticed it. He frowned and pulled out his cell phone and texted Rick;

_Who's Penny Rose?_

There was a long pause and Daryl sighed. Maybe Rick had gone to lunch already. But he was sure that wasn't the case – he hadn't seen Rick leave, and still felt the man was in the building. When Rick was gone the air wasn't electrified like this, or maybe that was just Daryl being overly sensitive.

Then; _I don't know. The name sounds familiar. I'll have to check._

_Okay. Let me know what you find._

The name was coming up too often to be coincidence. It had to mean something. Daryl felt his chest get tight with anticipation, eager to hear what Rick would find.

He looked down at his phone when he got a text from Michonne.

_That's Blake's daughter's name. Penny – and her grandmother, Rose._

Daryl's eyes widened when he read the text, and he breathed out a low curse. _How old is she?_

_Not sure. Ten?_

Now why would a ten-year-old be receiving deposits close to three grand every two weeks? It could be an alimony payment, it could be something more sinister – either way, it was a lead. It was proof. Daryl sat up in his seat and turned back to his spreadsheet, highlighting all of the deposits in Penny's name. It was only a year's worth, but it amounted to almost one hundred thousand dollars in total.

"Holy _shit_ ," he whispered, before he saved the spreadsheet and closed down his computer. He got up and walked to Rick and Michonne's office and knocked, opening the door when he heard Michonne say 'Come in'.

"Michonne, Rick, I got somethin' -."

He came to a screeching halt when he realized they weren't the only ones in the room. Philip Blake was there, in front of Rick's desk. He turned in his seat and gifted Daryl with a sharp, wide smile.

"Daryl! Just the man I wanted to see. Come on in. We have something important to discuss."

 


	18. Chapter 18

"Daryl! Just the man I wanted to see. Come on in. We have something important to discuss."

Daryl nodded, his eyes flashing to Rick as he closed the door behind him and stepped into the office. Rick didn't seem worried – more aggravated than anything else – but Daryl didn't let himself be fooled. He took the second chair in front of Rick's desk and looked at Philip.

Philip let out a small laugh and shook his head. "There's no need to look so nervous," he said, and Daryl didn't believe that for a second. Rick was sitting slightly off from his computer so that he could watch them both talk. He heard Michonne typing away and wondered if she was keeping track of everything said in this conversation. She seemed like the kind of person to do that.

Philip looked over at Rick and he smiled. "Negan called me," he said, and Daryl went tense with anxiety. He bit his lower lip and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and, after a pause, Philip continued; "Offered to lower our rates to practically nothing if we stayed on board with him. I'd like to hear your counter-offer."

Daryl looked up, his eyes wide. "Counter-offer?" he parroted weakly. Philip nodded, his gaze sharp like a jungle cat waiting to lunge for Daryl's throat.

Philip nodded. "Convince me why this huge investment is worth my time or money when I already have a perfectly good solution right here."

Rick let out an angry noise, glaring at Philip, who ignored him.

Daryl cleared his throat. "After the start-up costs, it won't matter what pricing Negan offers you. We can buy terminals at a fraction of the cost, create our own Point of Sale so that he doesn't get a say in charging us for processing fees, statements, PCI fees, or the use of his gateway. If all that's in-house, it'll literally save you tens of thousands every month." He sat up a little straighter. "You have almost four hundred accounts with Negan. On average they lose six hundred dollars every month, then you lose sixty grand every year for PCI compliance fees. I can cut that draft down to less than a hundred per merchant account."

Philip's eyes flashed. Daryl wondered if it was actually possible for a man's eyes to turn into giant dollar signs like in the cartoons. _That much more to embezzle,_ he thought viciously. "And I can get you to Europe," Daryl added. "In less than a year if everything goes smoothly."

"Do you think you'll want to stay on with us that long?" Philip asked, his voice quiet and smooth. "Your predecessor will be coming back by the end of the quarter. I imagine you'll be very bored."

Daryl hesitated. He hadn't thought about what might happen when the person he replaced came back from maternity leave. "Two sets of eyes on the books is better than one," he replied, trying to sound calm and non-flustered.

Philip hummed, and pushed himself to his feet. "Michonne informed me you've been very busy figuring out how to make this work," he said. Not Rick, _Michonne_. Like Rick wasn't even a factor. Daryl felt a sharp burst of righteous anger on Rick's behalf and it was no wonder Rick found the man so aggravating. "I'll have to present this to the board, you understand. No one can just make big changes like this without their approval."

Daryl nodded. "I understand," he said. "If you give me some time, I can give you the numbers."

Philip nodded, his smile sharp. "I need something viable by the end of the month," he said, and Daryl blinked, pressing his lips together, and nodded to show he understood. "I hope you're settling in, Dixon. Don't let yourself get too overwhelmed."

"I won't let you down," Daryl promised, and Philip smiled and left the room with a nod towards Michonne. He didn't even acknowledge Rick. When he was gone Daryl let out an explosive, relieved breath.

 _I hate that guy,_ he signed, and Rick huffed a laugh. His eyes were clearer now, brightening from the stormy, angry blue they had been in Philip's presence. _You think he'll fire me once the other woman comes back?_

Rick shook his head. _Technically you're under my branch of the company, which means he can't actively fire you without my consent._ Rick sighed. _But I'm sure he'll try._

 _We have to make sure he's out of here by then,_ Daryl signed and Rick nodded.

_You said you had something for us?_

Daryl nodded. _There's almost a hundred thousand dollars I can't account for – withdrawals made in the name of 'Penny Rose'. Michonne told me that's his daughter's name._

Rick's eyes went wide, and he nodded, a low sound escaping him. _Now that you say that, yes. I've met her a few times. Sweet girl._ He shook his head. _Son of a bitch._

 _We have an anonymous tip line,_ Michonne signed. _We should call it._

Daryl shook his head. _Stuff like that will make its way back to Blake. He might fire us all, or try and cover his tracks some other way._ He signed and ran his hands through his hair. _It might be worth calling Shane again, see what the best way to go about this is. I'm not really sure what to do when it comes to fraud._

Rick nodded, pressing his lips together. _We'll visit Shane and Lori this weekend as normal,_ he signed. _If the topic of conversation comes up, then so be it. Thank you, Daryl. I owe you._

Daryl smiled, his cheeks turning pink. Rick was looking at him like he hung the moon and it caused a fissure of pleasure to run down his spine. He stood and cleared his throat again. "I'll go grab whatever I can and finish that report for Blake," he said.

 _Make sure you CC me on everything you send to him,_ he signed. _We need a record of everything._

Daryl nodded and left the room, his brain buzzing as he went back to his office. It was empty and he shut and locked the door behind him, blowing out another breath. This was it. If Daryl managed to get Blake fired – or better yet, sued to within an inch of his life and maybe facing prison time – it would feel like a great victory. Rick could become president of the company if the board allowed it. And Daryl could be by his side through it all, on his left, Michonne on his right, running the company together. The thought made him smile.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket when it chimed with a text message. _I think my brain is melting. Lunch?_ It was from Glenn.

 _Sure. Meet you down there in ten,_ Daryl replied, and shut down his computer so that no one with wandering eyes and clever hands would be able to get into it. Daryl didn't put much stock in the presence of hackers in this place but he wouldn't put it past someone like Blake to try. Already the shared data files would be obviously more organized and if Blake cared to look, he might find it in his interests to check Daryl's computer or hard drive.

He met Glenn in the lobby and walked out with him. "What do they have you doing?" he asked for something to talk about. His body felt jittery, antsy. He felt like he needed to run.

Glenn sighed. "Right now I'm pulling web logs from all employees to see who's spending more time on YouTube than doing their work."

Daryl laughed. "The life of a computer nerd," he teased, and Glenn rolled his eyes and shoved him playfully.

"So! You got yourself a place?" Glenn asked. Daryl nodded. "And you can move in already?"

Daryl hesitated, wondering if he could trust Glenn with the information that he was now kind of living with Rick. Of course, Glenn was his best friend and one of his most trusted confidantes, but even still this felt too fresh and new to try and test it. Daryl was already walking such thin lines, both professionally and personally, and the reminder than Negan had Philip's number on speed dial hadn't helped settle his nerves.

"Is it close by?" Glenn asked, and Daryl nodded.

"Yeah, just a few blocks from here. A house."

"Oh, sweet," Glenn said. "You'll have to show me sometime."

Daryl swallowed and slowed to a stop, forcing Glenn to a halt next to him. "I have to tell you something," he said, and Glenn nodded, his eyes wide. "It's Rick's house."

Glenn blinked at him, his mouth falling open in shock. "Wait, like…he's giving you the guest room or something?" he asked weakly.

Daryl smiled and shook his head.

"Jesus Christ," Glenn whispered, his eyes widening again. "So you two are like…"

"Yeah, I guess so," Daryl said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I spent the night there last night. He told me he could bring my things from the hotel and I could live with him until I found another place." _If he found another place._ If he even bothered to look.

Glenn smiled widely. "Holy shit, man, good for you!" Glenn said, slapping a hand down on Daryl's shoulder as they started up walking again. Daryl found himself instinctively going towards the Thai place Rick had taken him to last night.

"It's all happening so fast," Daryl said. "Doesn't it seem fast?"

"Does it feel like you're rushing into things?" Glenn asked as they stepped into the restaurant. It was much quieter, empty and lacking the lunch rush. Evelyn was there and she greeted Daryl with a big smile and ushered him and Glenn towards the back of the restaurant.

"Hello, Daryl! Who's your friend?"

"This is Glenn," Daryl said with a smile. "Rick hired him as well. He's a friend of mine."

"Nice to meet you," Evelyn said. "What can I get you guys to drink?"

"Just water for me," Glenn said, and Daryl made the same order and Evelyn left them alone to peruse the menu.

"Maybe," Daryl said after a moment, picking their conversation back up. "I mean, when I'm around him, it doesn't feel like rushing. It feels easy, and _right_ , but I don't know. I guess I'm just gun-shy."

"I mean, it's not like you've known him long," Glenn said with a nod of agreement. "But I can think of plenty of people who're just…compatible. I mean, Maggie'n'I didn't date long before I knew I wanted to marry her."

Daryl nodded, sighing to himself. Evelyn came back with water and Daryl ordered the same pork he'd had the night before, Glenn ordered miso soup and chicken fried rice. Evelyn took their menus away and left them alone again to put in their order. Daryl toyed idly with his water glass and shook his head again.

"Blake talked to me today," he said. "Said Negan had called him, made a counter-offer to get the accounts to stay."

"Jesus," Glenn hissed. "Doesn't that guy know when to quit?"

"I don't think he'd be where he is if he did," Daryl replied. "But the numbers don't lie. It'll be better in the long run if we move away from Negan and break off on our own. And Rick supports me, so I think it'll work out."

"What about the…" Glenn cleared his throat. "Have you heard from Andrea?"

Daryl nodded. "I told her Negan fired Tara, too," he said, and Glenn's eyes went wide. "Carol didn't tell you?" He shook his head. "Yeah, fired her too. Said it was because she was lazy, but I'm bettin' it was to get to me. At this point I want to see him in a hole in the ground."

Glenn sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "This is turning into a such a mess," he said, and Daryl bit his lip and nodded. "You shouldn't have signed that contract."

"Too late to do anything about that, now," Daryl replied, a little harshly. "But I won't betray Rick. I _won't_. I don't even know what I would do if I could, what dirt he might have that would convince him to stay, but I won't do it."

Glenn nodded, his expression somber. "You're a good guy, Daryl," he said. "But I think you might be in a little over your head."

Daryl sighed. He had had that feeling since day one. He was playing with the big boys now, and wholly underprepared for it.

 

 

 

When they returned from lunch, Glenn left him to go to his floor and Daryl rode the elevator to the top where his office was. Rick was in the hallway when he approached, having just left his office. Likely going to lunch himself.

Rick hesitated, his fingers twitching. _I'm sorry,_ he signed. _I should have warned you Blake was in the room before you came to me._

Daryl shook his head. _No way to warn me,_ he replied. _I'm not mad. Just hope my presentation is enough to sway him._

 _There are other ways to sway him,_ Rick said, his expression turning dark for just a moment. _And I have friends on the board as well. This isn't an entirely uphill battle._

Daryl frowned, not understanding the last part, and Rick shook his head with a smile instead of explaining. _You going to lunch?_ he signed instead.

Rick nodded. _I have an appointment with a representative from one of our newer courses. I think you'd like him. He's a nice man, if a little long-winded, but he can understand sign language so that's a plus._

Daryl huffed a laugh. _You know, before I met you I didn't think it was such a wide-spread skill._ Rick cocked his head to one side. _I'm glad, though. I don't like the thought of you being so…_ He stopped, not knowing the word, and settled on _Alone._

Rick smiled, the expression soft with affection. _I've never felt all that alone,_ he replied, _but it's sweet of you to worry._

 _I always worry,_ Daryl said, _about the people I care about._

Rick's smile turned warm and he reached out to touch Daryl's chest gently. _I'll probably have to stay late,_ he signed. _Glenn is going to help you with your things?_ Daryl nodded. _I'll have Michonne give you a key before you leave. I'll see you later?_

Daryl nodded, wanting so desperately to kiss Rick, but this was not the time or the place. They couldn't afford to give themselves away yet. He licked his lips and Rick's eyes dropped to the motion before he lifted them again.

 _I'll see you tonight,_ Daryl said, unquestionably warm at the idea that he was going to go home to a place that he shared with this wonderful man. Like he had told Glenn, when he was around Rick, everything was easy. Everything felt right.

Rick moved away from him like it took him great effort to do so, and Daryl had pity on him and went into his office, shutting the door behind him. He turned his computer back on and settled into his seat with a sigh, feeling lethargic from the good food and the pleasant warmth in his office.

 

 

 

That night, he dropped his motorcycle off at the back of Rick's driveway and then rode with Glenn to Maggie's father's house. No one else was home when they arrived and they loaded up Daryl's stuff into Glenn's car. It was a tight fit, even as pitifully little as Daryl possessed, and when they made it back to the house he invited Glenn in for a beer after unloading everything.

Glenn seemed to appreciate Rick's choice of décor in the same way Daryl did. It was a nice house, welcoming and warm. Glenn saw the picture of Lori, Shane, and Rick and Daryl gestured towards it.

"That's his kid," Daryl said, and Glenn looked at him in question. "He was a donor for them, or something. Kid looks just like him – has his eyes and everything. Rick tells me they've known each other forever."

"This the guy with the ranch?" Glenn asked, and Daryl nodded. "That's cool. Maggie's sister has a horse on their farm. I think she'd be itching for a riding partner."

"Shane lives pretty far out, but if they can manage it, I'll ask," Daryl said. Glenn finished his beer and bid him goodnight and Daryl saw him out, locking the door behind him. He hauled his things up into the guest bedroom just so that he didn't crowd Rick's room, and pulled his suitcase and bags from Rick's room corner as well to place his things there. Then, he shed his work clothes and threw them on a lazy pile on the pristinely-made bed and changed into something he could sleep in.

He was tired, but not sleepy, and he settled into Rick's bed – unmade, again, he noticed with a smile – and curled up in sheets and blankets that smelled like both of them. It was almost nine at night and Daryl hoped Rick made it home soon.

He was roused by the door opening and lifted his head when Rick entered the room, stopping at the threshold when he saw Daryl already there – like he had forgotten that he had a bedmate now. His face split into a wide smile that shed the exhaustion from his face and Daryl offered a smile back. Rick walked over to where he lay and leaned down for a kiss.

Daryl answered him eagerly, one hand reaching out to loosely curl in Rick's suit jacket.

Rick pulled away after another kiss, petting through his hair, and let out a quiet rumble. He shed his clothes and changed into a pair of sleep pants and an old t-shirt and went into the bathroom for a moment to brush his teeth and wash his face, and then came to the bed, sliding into place beside Daryl.

It was strange. Daryl didn't have people in his bed, hadn't had one for a long time, and certainly not without the expectation of sex. But Rick didn't seem to have that on his mind at all – it was novel, just feeling someone's warmth next to him and being content with cuddling and sharing space.

He rolled over and put his head on Rick's shoulder, sighing when Rick lifted an arm to pet through his hair. Rick hummed again, his eyes closing, body going lax and Daryl lifted a hand to settle it on Rick's chest, over his heart.

"Goodnight, Daryl," Rick murmured, heavy with sleep.

Daryl smiled and lifted his head to steal one more, chaste kiss that made Rick's lips twitch upwards. "Goodnight," he said back, and then settled back down into his spot. As much as his body had fought it before, sleep came to him easily with Rick's warmth under him and Rick's hand petting through his hair. Both of them were out within minutes.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! You would not BELIEVE the shit that went down at my work this week holy Hell my life is like this fic now except my Rick Grimes isn't a beautiful deaf man I wanna bang (and I'm not as cool as Daryl). But yeah, shiiiiiiiiiiit. My anxiety was through the roof for so long I couldn't write more of this and now it's done and I feel as elated as Daryl did.
> 
> So, um. I feel like.......this chapter went a little different than how I intended? I think it remains true to the characterizations I've given Rick, Daryl and Michonne, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on it as well.
> 
> It was also mentioned that Michonne wasn't privy to the embezzlement thing and now she is and that's going to be addressed in another chapter but like the drama in this one was getting pretty long soooooooo. Yeah. Enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: People pointed out that Rick, as a deaf person, can't hear an alarm. Duh. I don't know why I wrote that - in my head Rick woke up because Daryl did but obviously that wasn't clear, so I've changed that part. I feel dumb, lol. My bad!

Daryl woke to the insistent vibration of Rick's alarm. His phone was rattling so hard against the nightstand that it vibrated the bed, a bright light flashing from the back of it in rhythm. He let out a grunt of protest, snuggling closer to Rick as the other man moved, groaning and opening bleary eyes. He rolled over and pressed the lock button on his phone, prompting the alarm to snooze, and rolled back over to snuggle up against Daryl again. Daryl hid a grin against Rick's chest, humming quietly when one of Rick's hands immediately went to his hair and pet through it, fingers catching on the knots.

"Mornin'," Rick rumbled, accent thick in the word. Daryl hummed so that Rick could feel it, but didn't say anything back.

Rick pulled back a little so that he could see Daryl's face, a soft smile making his mouth curl. Daryl sighed, closing his eyes, and resting their foreheads together.

It was nice, and comfortable in Rick's bed, but Daryl's mind was racing. Philip's talk with Negan had shaken him more than he cared to admit. Even with his presentation, if Philip told Negan 'No' – if he agreed with the numbers and everything Daryl presented – which, of course he would, because no matter what way you sliced it Daryl's solution was the best one – Negan might resort to other things to get Daryl fired or threaten his relationship with Rick.

And Daryl had known from day one that it was coming for him like a freight train. He was braced for the crash but he wasn't sure he could afford to just let it happen. The best thing to do, the _right_ thing to do, would be to just tell Rick and get it over with before anything happened. But things had already happened. He was _living_ with Rick, sharing his bed, maybe sharing his heart since Rick seemed to eager to give it to him – and Daryl liked him, he liked Rick so much it caused him physical pain to resist kissing Rick in the office, to be in the same room with him and not touching.

He owed it to Rick to be honest, just as Rick had been honest with him. Rick had told him about Carl, about Lori and Shane, about his life and shared the secrets of his insecurities with Daryl. He'd let Daryl hear his voice and Daryl was sure there were fewer people than he could count on one hand that Rick had allowed that privilege.

He opened his eyes and found Rick watching him, soft with affection. He leaned in for a chaste kiss, putting a hand in Rick's hair and Rick let out a quiet hum of pleasure, tilting his head into the touch and allowing Daryl to deepen the kiss.

Then, Daryl pulled back, and sighed again. "I have something I need you to see," he said, and Rick blinked at him, frowning in confusion. "Stay here."

He pulled away from Rick with the same amount of effort he thought would be needed for pushing over a mountain with his bare hands, and stood up. Rick sat up on the bed, his hands in his lap, and let out a questioning noise.

Daryl swallowed harshly and held out a hand. "I'll be right back," he said, and waited until Rick nodded before he turned and headed towards the guest room.

His hands were shaking as he went through his things and grabbed his copy of the contract. He held it so tightly that the folder and papers inside bent around his fingers, until his knuckles were white. His heart was hammering and he felt sick with anxiety. He licked his lips, and took a deep breath. _Don't be a coward_ , he told himself. He owed Rick more than that.

He returned to the room with the folder and Rick's eyes fell to it, brow furrowing as he frowned more deeply, obviously confused.

"I need you to read this," he said, holding it up and forcing Rick's eyes to rise so he could read Daryl's lips. "I…need you to read this. And before you do, I need you to understand that I'm doing everything in my power to make sure this doesn't matter. To make sure it doesn’t hurt you. I have a lawyer. She thinks she can get me out of it."

Rick cocked his head to one side, visibly worried now. _What is it?_ he signed.

Daryl looked down at the contract. His hands were visibly shaking and he wondered if Rick noticed. But Rick always noticed.

"Daryl," Rick said, sounding worried and strained. "What is that?"

Daryl licked his lips, and before he could chicken out he threw it onto the bed in front of Rick. "It's a contract," he said. "Between me and Negan. To get dirt on you, to convince you to stay with him."

Rick's eyes widened. His hands twitched as though to reply, but they hesitated, and instead he reached out and pulled the folder to him and opened it.

Daryl crawled onto the bed quickly and put his hand on the papers, forcing Rick's eyes to lift to him again. Rick's expression had changed, melting from the soft, affectionate thing it had been and was colder now, his emotions hidden, the businessman that Daryl had first met.

"I need you to understand," Daryl said. "I know this…" He pointed at the contract. "This is a shitty-ass thing and I regretted it the minute I signed it. And I haven't done anything…anything about it. He's been firing people I care about because I haven't given him results. I haven't told him anything. I need you to know that, before you read this."

Rick nodded – one quick motion of his head. His jaw clenched, the only sign of his anger, and he looked back down at the contract.

 _I'd like you to leave,_ he signed. _Go to work. I'm going to read this and we'll discuss it later._

Daryl nodded. Truthfully it was kinder than he had expected from Rick. He stood and left the room, sick with anxiety. He dressed for work and took his motorcycle, but didn't go to the office straight away. Instead, he found himself heading towards the hotel he had been staying at. Bob was there and he grinned at Daryl as he approached.

"My friend Daryl!" he greeted warmly, shaking Daryl's hand. "How are you? Haven't seen you in a couple days."

"I think you'll be seeing more of me soon," Daryl said. He sighed and pulled out a packet of cigarettes, lighting one with shaking hands. He was too sick to eat and the nicotine would calm him, at least a little. "I did a stupid thing, Bob."

"We all have."

"Not like this." Daryl took his first inhale and blew out a big cloud. "You remember our conversations? About vices and love?" Bob nodded. "Well, I think I fucked up both in one fell swoop."

"You decide to be with your bossman?" Bob asked, nodding sagely when Daryl took another drag in answer. "It was only a matter of time. Your voice gets soft when you talk about him."

"I did a fucked up thing," Daryl said. "And I came clean to him this morning. He told me to leave, to go to work. But I can't go to work right now." He sighed and shook his head, running a shaking hand through his hair. "I don't know what to do. Any words of wisdom for me?"

"I'm afraid my advice is very Hallmark," Bob said with a smile. "But! You know what? Love is a good soothing remedy for all anger. It can forgive a lot of things. So I guess the question is…this thing you did. Will it hurt him?"

"Yes," Daryl said.

"I mean, will it threaten his job? Will it change his life? Or will it just change how he feels about you?"

Daryl sighed. "I'd be _very_ surprised if it didn't," he said. "I…I basically agreed to spy on him, for my old boss. I told him I didn't do anything, I didn't give anything away. But I showed him the contract I signed. And I told him I'm trying to get out of it but…I still signed it. I still agreed to it. I agreed to hurt him, even though I didn't. I'm worried he will just focus on the first part."

Bob nodded. "He likely will," Bob said. Daryl let out a low, sad sound and took another deep inhale of his cigarette, burning the stick down to half-way, and tapped the ash loose. "I guess I can only give you the advice I'd give myself – let him be angry. Give him space. Let him think about it. Then, when he's ready, he'll come talk to you. And you just have to be prepared for whatever he says."

"I don't want to lose everything," Daryl said weakly. "I don't want to lose him, or this job, or any of it. I'm finally home, and everything has felt so easy and _right_ , and I…fuck, I didn't even know I could feel this way about another person. But I do. Why did it have to be _him_?"

"We don't choose who we fall for," Bob said, "but we choose who we love."

Daryl closed his eyes and finished his first cigarette, taking out a second as he crushed the butt of the first under his shoe. "I'm so fucked," he whispered.

"Well, you always have a friend in me, Daryl," Bob said, resting a hand on Daryl's shoulder. "And the hotel has spots free, if you need it. Did you move in with him?" Daryl nodded and Bob let out a low whistle. "Eesh. I've been dating my Queen for ages and we haven't lived together yet."

"I don't know how you stand it," Daryl said with a sad smile and another shake of his head. "I just…I couldn't say 'No'. I can never say 'No' – and Hell, I didn't want to. He told me he got my stuff and moved me in and I didn't want to tell him I didn't want to live with him. I mean, I _do_. I want to be around him all the time." Daryl looked at the ground, his chest was tight and cold. "Now he'll hate me. What if he doesn't want to talk to me? What if I'm just fired and out on my ass?"

"You have friends here, right?" Bob said. "That skinny Asian guy. Glenn, yes?"

"Yeah." Daryl wiped a hand over his face. "Fuck, I should call Glenn, too. Tell him what happened. Rick might fire him as well, just for association. I uprooted Glenn and his fiancé and now they might lose everything too. _Fuck_."

"Look, this is all hypothetical still," Bob said. "You told me he just asked you to leave for work. Did he say anything about talking after?"

Daryl nodded. "He said we'd discuss it later, after I confessed."

"Okay. Then the water ain't over your head yet. _Breathe_ , friend. My mama always told me there's no use worrying about fertilized eggs until there's a cock around."

Daryl lifted his head and choked on a laugh, one eyebrow raised. "I…don't think that's a sayin'," he said, but was unable to stop himself smiling because it was such a ridiculous sentiment.

Bob grinned. "But it made you smile, so it's a win," he said with another gentle squeeze to Daryl's shoulder. "Go to work. Do your job and do it well. Remind him why he hired you in the first place – I mean, I'm pretty sure it wasn't for sex or love, right?" Daryl sighed and shook his head. "There you go. So just…try to work. Do your job. And let him come to you when he's ready."

"What do you think he'll say?" Daryl asked, stubbing the second cigarette out and crushing it under his shoe as he straightened up, his hands sliding into the pockets of his jacket.

"From the way you talk about him, he seems reasonable. He probably just needs time to think."

Daryl nodded. "Thank you, Bob," he said. "You're a ray of sunshine in the mess of this shitstorm." Bob smiled at him.

"Good luck, my friend Daryl," he said with a wave, and Daryl nodded, putting his headphones in and calling Glenn as he pocketed his phone and mounted his motorcycle again.

"Hey man, what's up?" Glenn answered, the sound of a car door slamming and an engine starting coming in from the background.

"I came clean to Rick," Daryl said, figuring it would just be better to get it over with. Glenn gasped audibly and Daryl heard the engine rev and he started to drive. "I told him everything, and let him read the contract. I told him I hadn't done anything, and that I have a lawyer trying to get me out of the contract, but…"

"Holy shit," Glenn breathed. "What did he say?"

"Nothing, yet," Daryl said, and tried to focus on driving to ignore the shredded bulk of anxiety sitting in his chest. He felt like he had just gotten the worst case of food poisoning in his life. How he was supposed to focus on his work and his job, with a storm cloud like this hanging over him, he had no idea. "I gave him the contact and he told me to leave and go to work and we'd talk about it later. But I had to warn you, in case we both get fired and are out on our asses."

"Well, I appreciate the warning, at least," Glenn said, sounding worried. "Luckily I don't have to worry about shit like paying rent just yet."

"I'm so sorry, Glenn," Daryl said. "I'm sorry I got you into this mess. I'm sorry I made you leave Negan. I'm sorry for… _fuck_."

"Hey, man, you did what you had to do. What you thought was right. Ain't your fault it was a shitty-ass decision all ways around," Glenn replied. "Look, I'll be at the office in a while. Go chill in your office or something and I'll come see you, okay? Just try and stay calm. We don't know how he's going to react yet."

"You didn't see his face," Daryl muttered darkly, before Glenn sighed and they both parted with tense 'Goodbye's. Rick had been so _cold_ , it was like Blake was sitting in the room with them. Just as Rick's praise felt like a physical thing, his anger was even more so, and Daryl had been able to see, he'd been so _angry_. He could imagine Rick, pacing the floor of his room, reading over the contract, his eyes tracing and re-tracing the lines of Daryl's signature. Hackles raised, teeth bared, like a caged wildcat.

He pulled into the office parking lot and dismounted, shoulders curled in and unable to do more than offer Jacqui a strained smile as he walked through the main lobby and went up to his floor where his and Rick's offices were. There was no light coming in from Rick's office so he could assume Rick and Michonne hadn't arrived yet.

He closed his office door behind him and shrugged off his jacket and avoided opening the blinds so he wasn't tempted to watch out for Michonne's car. He booted up his computer but knew he was too anxious and jittery to get any real work done.

He looked up when he heard footsteps from outside. There were no voices – they walked past his office and into Rick's next door. Daryl heard the door close and sighed, putting his face in his hands.

His phone chimed and he almost fell out of his chair trying to grab it from his coat. He opened his messages – it was from Glenn, and Daryl tried to stifle a sound of disappointment.

_I'm here. You need me to come up?_

Daryl sighed.

_No. I'm not good company right now. I need time alone._

_I get it. Let me know if anything happens._

_I will._

Before he could put his phone away, another message popped up. From Rick. Daryl closed his eyes and tried to calm down his anxiety before he opened it.

_Please come to my office when you have a moment._

Daryl shoved himself to his feet, locked his computer, and walked to Rick's office. It felt like a death march. He could feel the chill of Rick's anger before he opened the door. He knocked and heard Michonne say 'Come in', her voice similarly clipped, and he stepped inside. Michonne was glaring at him outright but Rick had a more neutral expression on his face. Daryl entered and Michonne stood and left the room to give them privacy.

Daryl sat down on the other side of Rick's desk, shoulders curled in, legs pressed tightly together. He could feel Rick's gaze on him, steady and cold, and it felt like someone was slowly putting an icy dagger between his ribs. He was shaking and didn't dare meet Rick's eyes.

He could see Rick's hands, though, and forced himself to watch when they moved.

 _Daryl_.

Daryl nodded, pressing his lips together. Rick wasn't going to say his name out loud. He probably wouldn't again. Loss and heartache threatened to choke him. He had known this was coming, and it was better that it came from him, but it was all still so new and fresh and he felt so _attached_ to Rick and it was like some cruel trick of God to give him something this wonderful and then yank it away. But that was the role of the Devil, wasn't it – and wasn't Negan just the perfect Satan, to scheme and conspire until he was in a position where he didn't even need to act to get Daryl to sabotage himself. Daryl had done it all on his own.

_Daryl, look at me._

Daryl raised his eyes.

 _You didn't tell Negan anything,_ Rick signed.

Daryl shook his head rapidly.

_About Blake? About the embezzlement? Your plans to get us away from him? About us?_

Daryl flinched at the word 'us', sure that it was going to become a 'the thing we used to be'. Daryl shook his head again, and Rick nodded.

 _Good_.

Daryl blinked, his lips parting as he sucked in a quick breath. "Rick, I…" He pulled his hands out of his pockets. He'd be damned if he let this conversation become one-sided. _I'm so sorry. I'm sorry about all of it. I thought that if I signed it then my coworkers would be safe. I was wrong. And I know…_ He swallowed hard. Rick's expression hadn't changed. _I hurt you. You trusted me and I hurt you._

Rick sighed. _I don't want to be angry with you,_ he signed. _I don't want to be angry, but I am._

 _I understand._ Daryl bit his lip and looked down. _I'll have Glenn help me get my stuff tonight. I'll leave. You don't need to worry about that._

Rick blinked at him and cocked his head to one side. _You're quitting?_ he asked.

Daryl hesitated. _You're going to fire me, aren't you?_

 _That wasn't my intention, no,_ Rick said.

Daryl was frozen, hope rising up like a phoenix in his chest and he tried to viciously stamp it down. He couldn't afford to hope. Even if he still had a job, he definitely didn't still have a place by Rick's side, in his bed, in his home. That was too much to ask for.

 _I don't understand,_ he said, feeling weak and helpless. It was just like the first time he'd said it, when Rick said he wanted to kiss him and Daryl didn't know the words yet. He was a fish out of water, flailing on dry land and desperate for a life-line to pull him back to sea.

Rick's eyes flashed and he smiled – it was a small thing, but he _smiled_. It was like seeing the sun in the middle of a hurricane.

 _I'll put this very plainly for you, then,_ Rick said. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out the folder Daryl had given him. It looked it even worse wear, like Rick had thought about ripping it to shreds before he told himself to do otherwise. Daryl swallowed harshly and ducked his head but made sure he could still watch Rick's hands.

 _I've been in this business a long time, Daryl,_ Rick continued. _I've had challenges, just like you have – and, just like you, I've done my best to rise above them. The fact of the matter is I cannot continue to rise without you. So, you're going to keep working here, and doing the tasks I assign to you._ Daryl nodded. _You will continue to look for a place to live if that is what you would prefer, but you are also still welcome to live with me._

Daryl's eyes widened. This couldn't be happening. It _couldn't_. Nothing ever worked out this well for a Dixon man.

_I know enough about myself to know what I want. You did a stupid thing, and you decided against it, and did what you could to get out of it. You say you haven't betrayed me, and I believe you because aside from this you have given me no reason to doubt that – to doubt your loyalty. Now, I need to know – do you ever intend to give me a reason?_

"No," Daryl said vehemently, shaking his head. _No. Never._

Rick nodded, his sharp eyes looking Daryl over. Daryl bore the gaze as steadily as he could, but he was still shaking. The ground felt like it was moving under him and Rick was a life raft, a steady thing to focus on in the chaotic sea but Daryl didn't know if he was allowed to reach for him.

Then, Rick nodded once more and gifted Daryl with another small smile. _Good_ , he said. _Go back to your office. Remind me why I hired you. I'll see you at home_.

Daryl stood, relieved and elated beyond belief. Rick hadn't said he was still welcome in his bed, but the promise hung there like a taste of sweetness on Daryl's tongue. Rick wasn't going to fire him. Rick wasn't going to kick him out.

"Daryl," Rick called, and the sound of his name was like another punch of relief to Daryl's sore nerves. He turned to regard Rick. "Don't ever betray me again."

"I won't," Daryl replied, and Rick nodded and turned his attention back to his computer. Daryl blew out a breath and left the room, almost colliding with Michonne who was standing in the hallway, glaring down at her phone.

She looked up, pressing her lips together. Daryl sighed. "I'm sorry," he told her, his fingers twitching as though wanting to sign it as well although she could hear him just fine. She narrowed her eyes and didn't move. "I know it was stupid. I know I don't deserve this second chance. But what I feel hasn't changed."

"Rick is a lot more forgiving than I am," Michonne replied. She had lost the curt tone of voice but Daryl could feel her anger, bristled up like a mama bear ready to attack and defend her young from intruders. Rick was one of hers, Daryl knew that, and she would fight to protect him. She had told Daryl that from day one. "I don't like seein' him hurt. You hurt him again and you won't get a third chance."

"I know," Daryl said. Frankly it was beyond belief that he had been allowed this one. "I'm…" He tried to search for the word. He was sorry. He promised not to hurt Rick again. He was loyal. He was going to stay that way. "I'm his," Daryl finally said. "I'm his now."

Michonne nodded, her stern expression finally clearing as she straightened from the wall. "You're a decent guy, Daryl," she said. "I wouldn't have agreed with him to hire you if I thought otherwise. And this Negan guy is a real prick. Honestly I'm not surprised he tried to pull somethin' like this."

"I'm trying to get out of it," Daryl said. "Wash my hands of the whole mess."

"Rick will try, too," Michonne said. She shook her head. "I guess what I'm tryin' to say is…if you're in this, with him, with us, with this company now – you're not alone in it, okay? Stop bein' all stoic macho all the time and let people fuckin' _help_ you when you do dumb shit like that."

"I'm going to try and not make a habit of it," Daryl said, unable to stop himself smiling. He let out a self-deprecating huff. "I think Rick's still a little pissed at me."

"Yeah, probably," Michonne replied with a shrug. "But you're still here, which means he's cool enough to let you stay, which means I'm cool enough to let you stay. So don't fuck up again, you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," Daryl said. Michonne nodded one more time and punched him in the shoulder for good measure, before she went back into the office. He could hear her speaking to Rick, and pauses for Rick to reply in sign. Daryl sighed, feeling at once lighter and shakier than he had since giving Rick the contract, and went back to his office.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay guys, I was at DragonCon. It was awesome!
> 
> Talking out feelings and bottom!Rick! \o/

Their individual projects kept them at the office late over the coming nights. Daryl was almost rabid with trying to get his presentation ready for Blake and at the same time trying to get enough information and dirt on the man to turn him over to whoever investigated embezzlement scandals. Probably the board, first. Daryl had no idea – he trusted Rick to handle that part.

True to his word, Rick didn't fire him nor did he kick Daryl out of his house. They operated as smoothly as ever, to the point where Daryl felt like he did when he first came down here. He burned for Rick, whenever he was in the room with the man he thought he might go crazy, unable to touch or kiss him. But Rick seemed determined to make sure they were never alone together. Maybe he felt it, too – maybe he needed someone there at all times to make sure he kept his hands to himself. Or maybe he just did it to punish Daryl, to remind him that though Daryl's sins may have been forgiven, they would not be forgotten.

So Daryl turned to his work. He would remind Rick why Rick had hired him, trusted him, and prove to be a good employee and an even better financial manager or whatever the Hell his title was at this point. Technical writer, program manager, liaison? He had no idea. Nor did he really care. All that mattered to him was setting Rick and himself free, from both Negan and Blake, and coming out of this on the other side with as few burn marks and scars as they could manage.

By the end of the week he'd managed to create a workable program for the switchover, including projected timelines for the creation of the app, certifying themselves as a merchant services provider, and a cost analysis for each. He hadn't gone to Rick's house later than ten each night and hadn't come to the office later than seven each morning and he was exhausted.

He shut down his computer and grabbed his jacket, heaving a sigh as he put it on and grabbed his keys and phone. He went downstairs. The lobby was almost darkened, only the dull security lights were still on, and Daryl nodded to the night shift guard on duty on his way out. He went to his motorcycle – one of the last vehicles in the place – and mounted it and drove to Rick's house.

He didn't need to worry about waking Rick up, obviously, so he didn't bother being quiet as he parked at the passenger side of Rick's car and let himself in. It was a Friday night and Blake had told him he would give his presentation on Monday to the board. Daryl was uneasy. He hadn't seen much of Rick since their meeting the day Daryl had come clean about the contract – nor had he heard from Andrea or whichever lawyer Rick was trying to use on his own time – and he hadn't spent any time alone with the man since the meeting. But it was the weekend, which meant neither he nor Rick had anything in the office to call them away, and Daryl hadn't spent an entire day with Rick since their trip to Shane's farm.

It was going to be awkward. Rick hadn't let them be alone with each other since the contract came to light, and Daryl couldn't think of a single thing he could do to get himself out of the house and leave Rick alone. Two days with just the man, Daryl knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself but Rick didn't even seem interested in him like that anymore. If he ever let Daryl back into his bed, it certainly wouldn't be tonight or any other night before the presentation. Maybe not even until Daryl managed to get himself out of the contract, when and if that ever happened.

He sighed and went to the fridge where he stocked his beer – he bought a different brand than Rick usually and kept it on 'his' side of the fridge. It was like they were roommates, not anything else. It hurt him to think about that.

Daryl had been sleeping in the guest room. Rick hadn't offered to bring him back into his bed and Daryl didn't ask. Maybe it was pride, maybe it was desperation, he didn't know, but he knew he wouldn't be welcome back until Rick invited him.

He looked at the six-pack he'd brought home the other night and sighed again, closing the fridge without taking one. He was exhausted and he just wanted to sleep – but he wanted to sleep next to _Rick_. He had barely shared a bed with the man for two nights and already he missed his warmth, and the weight of him against Daryl's back, and the sound of his breathing as it steadied out into sleep.

He walked up stairs and froze when he heard a moan coming from Rick's room. Of course, Rick didn't know he was home, and he definitely couldn't hear Daryl or know he was listening. Did deaf people care about keeping quiet? Did Rick even care that Daryl might hear him?

Daryl held his breath and, because he was a masochist or whatever else, tried to strain his hearing to listen for any indication that Rick might have company. He hadn't seen another car and he didn't think Rick was the kind of guy to have one-night stands but then again he didn't _know_ Rick, not really. Maybe Rick was cruel like that, would take another lover while his 'roommate' was away at work and didn't give a fuck if Daryl heard them.

He couldn't hear anyone else, male or female, and he clung to that thought like a lifeline when he heard Rick growl, moaning softly again. He crept to Rick's door, shutting off the hallway light so that his silhouette didn't give him away, and pressed his ear to it.

Rick was alone. Daryl clung to that fact desperately. He was sure of it – he couldn't hear his bed creaking or moving like he knew it did when Rick was with someone. But the sounds of a slick hand and Rick's breathless moans was enough, he could hear those.

He could also hear a vibrating sound and his breath caught when he realized Rick probably had a toy and was using it on himself. His fingers curled and he bit his lip, his chest hot and tight with arousal and desperation. He wanted to _go_ to Rick, Rick didn't need to use a toy, Daryl was _right fucking here_ , but Rick was angry with him – rightfully so – and it was his decision if he wanted to use his own hand and his toys instead of Daryl's body.

He had a brief, traitorous thought, that maybe Rick _did_ know he was home, and was trying to torture him this way as well. Daryl had no idea and didn't dare ask. He moved away from the door and went to his room. He was still living out of his suitcases, too depressed to make himself at home in the guest room. He changed out of his work clothes and threw them in a pile in the corner and changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants to sleep in.

But it was worse in hear. Daryl could hear Rick's vibrator and his moans even more clearly, the walls were paper thin. He bit his lip and climbed into bed, closing his eyes to try and block out the sounds. He was so tired, he just wanted to sleep, but the sounds Rick was making ricocheted around his head like a bullet.

"Mm, _fuck_ ," he heard Rick growl, and the vibrating sound kicked up to a higher pitch. He heard the bed creak as Rick moved, probably chasing the sensation of the toy inside of him and fucking up into his hand with more force. " _Daryl_."

Daryl let out a sound like he'd been punched and clenched his eyes more tightly shut. Rick was thinking about _him_. It soothed the possessiveness in Daryl and burned him like cheap whiskey all at the same time. He should have had that drink before bed.

He bit his lip and listened because he couldn't do anything else. Rick was close, Daryl knew how he sounded well enough to know that. He thought about opening the door, putting his mouth on Rick, kissing him and sucking his cock while Rick fucked up into his mouth and ruined his throat. He thought about Rick's hand in his hair, circling his neck. He'd let Rick do whatever he wanted – he meant it when he said it before and he means it now. He'd let Rick bite him on his neck, suck dark marks there, fuck him brutally, or maybe he'd roll over and let Daryl fuck him hard enough to make him lax.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud cry from Rick, his name muffled in a moan, and then the vibrating sound stopped. Daryl was breathing heavily, torn up from the inside. His gut burned with arousal and his head hurt from how much it ached to listen to Rick touch himself, cry Daryl's name. He didn't want Daryl enough for the real thing. Not yet, maybe never. After all, how many times had Rick denied himself the rights to Daryl's body before they slept together, while Daryl was aching and burning from the inside with the need to be touched?

Daryl bit his lip when he heard Rick moving, and then the shower turned on. "Asshole," he muttered without heat, and turned his face to his pillow, willing his erection to go away. He didn't want that, not right now. It didn't seem right until he found out if Rick meant for him to hear.

He heard the shower turn off, moments or years later, and then Rick's door opened. Daryl held his breath. His lamp was off, his room was dark, but if Rick went downstairs he'd know Daryl was home and had been at least long enough to hear him showering. Daryl could see Rick's silhouette hesitate by the door.

Then, it moved on, and Daryl closed his eyes again and tried to calm his hammering heart. He slept fitfully and barely at all.

 

 

Saturday morning broke bright and early and Daryl felt more exhausted than when he went to sleep. He wanted to roll over and sleep the day away but forced himself to get up and into the shower. He showered quickly, washing off the sweat from his overheated room – the air conditioning didn't affect the guest room as nicely as Rick's bedroom – and changed into jeans but wore the same shirt. He could hear Rick moving around downstairs and sucked in a harsh breath, told himself not to be a coward, and went downstairs.

Rick was watching television with the subtitles on and the box muted. He didn't look up until Daryl stepped into his peripheral, and he nodded with a polite smile. Daryl nodded back, hesitating, but Rick turned his attention back to the news that was on. There was fresh coffee in a French press and Daryl poured himself a cup and stayed in the kitchen while it cooled, his hands framing the mug despite the heat.

This was torture. What would they do now, just dance around each other and resist until Monday? That was insane – and Rick had _called his name_ last night while he touched himself. Rick still wanted him, thought about him – but, of course, he didn't know Daryl knew that. Daryl owed it to him to talk about it, so that they could move on, but the thought that Rick would still be angry with him and tell him 'No' to his face was too much to bear.

He shook his head and rubbed a warm hand across his face. He heard Rick get up and come to the kitchen and he felt frozen, like a deer in headlights. He hardly dared to meet Rick's eyes when Rick approached him and came to a stop on the other side of the kitchen island.

"Daryl," he said, and Daryl flinched, raising his eyes.

"Yeah?" he asked, wincing at how hoarse his voice sounded. Of course, Rick didn't hear that. He was watching Daryl's face, his body language, with sharp eyes.

Finally, he sighed, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair. He looked as tired as Daryl felt, but Daryl had no idea how that could be true. Unless Rick was hurting just as much as he was.

Rick shook his head again. _I don't want to do this anymore,_ he signed.

Daryl nodded, setting his coffee mug down. "I'll have Glenn come help me move my stuff," he said.

Rick frowned. _What? No._ He reached out and caught Daryl's arm as Daryl made to walk past him. His fingers were warm and gentle when they wrapped around Daryl's wrist and tugged him to a stop. _That's not what I meant._

Daryl shook his head. "You want me gone, right?"

 _No_.

 _I don't understand, Rick,_ Daryl signed back. He ached all over like he'd been hit by a truck. Rick had said he'd never hurt Daryl, and that was true, but Daryl was hurting all the same. He just needed to _know_ what was going on. Then…well, then he could deal with it.

 _I mean I don't want…to do this anymore,_ Rick signed, and huffed a frustrated breath as he gestured between the two of them. He let Daryl's arm go to sign and Daryl felt like he'd been branded. _You, in the guest room. You're acting like a wounded dog._

 _I just don't want to hurt you anymore,_ Daryl replied, his hands moving slowly.

 _This black cloud is hanging over us now,_ Rick said. _I feel like I'm losing you. You feel like I'm pushing you away. I don't want either to be true._

Daryl bit his lip. "I heard you last night," he said. Rick blinked and he looked down, cheeks turning pink. "I heard you, calling my name. If you wanted me there you would have said so."

 _If you wanted to join me, you would have, instead of hiding in the guest room like a criminal,_ Rick returns, and Daryl shakes his head and sighs heavily.

"You're not going to kick me out," Daryl said, and Rick shook his head. "You're not going to fire me." Rick shook his head again. "But you're not going to kiss me either, or touch me, or let me be in a room alone with you. I don't know what you want, Rick. I don't know if you do, either."

Rick blinked at him. _I was doing that for you,_ he signed. Daryl frowned. _Every time I called you to my office you looked like you expected me to hurt you. And whenever you saw another person there, you'd relax, because you knew it was going to be about business. How can I talk to you when you flinch whenever I say your name?_

And…well, Daryl had to concede that. He had never been good around angry men – ingrained from his father and his brother, his instinct was to hide or fight for his life. Avoidance was survival.

 _Daryl, I'm not angry with you,_ Rick signed, and Daryl knew that that wasn't true. _Not anymore. You signed a contract that threatened your happiness and your job, and then you came clean to me about it, putting those things under threat again. But you swore your loyalty to me and I believe you._ Daryl bit his lip and looked up, meeting Rick's eyes. His expression was sincere, his eyes soft and sad. _I'm angry at Negan. I'm angry at Blake. I'm angry about the contract, but I'm not angry with_ you _._

Daryl took in a shaky breath, his fingers curling. "I'm sorry," he said, and was glad that Rick couldn't hear how thick his voice was, how each word was a struggle. "I'm sorry, I -."

 _I'm not going to hurt you,_ Rick said. _Professionally or otherwise. I swore that I wouldn't, and I don't want to._

"I don't know how to stop," Daryl confessed, his voice a whisper. "I don't know what to do."

Rick smiled – this soft and adoring thing. He reached for Daryl again, fingers gently circling his wrist, and stepped out towards the living room. _Come watch T.V. with me_ , he said, and Daryl nodded, reaching out to grab his coffee before he followed Rick to the comfortable couch. _Would you like the sound on?_

Daryl shook his head. "Subtitles is fine," he replied, and Rick nodded and sat down on the couch, watching Daryl as he settled into place beside him. Rick hummed, his smile softening, and kissed his shoulder as Daryl set his coffee cup down and hesitantly let himself relax against the couch. It was comfortable, the cushions deep and giving, and Rick's warmth was a pleasant line next to his thigh and shoulder.

After a moment Rick sighed, catching Daryl's attention. _You can stay in the guest room, of course, if that's what you want._

Daryl shook his head. "I don't," he replied, honestly.

Rick smiled and nodded, before turning his attention back to the news. It was an hour long and at the end of it Rick picked up the remote and turned the television off, before setting the remote back down. He put his hand on Daryl's shoulder and squeezed.

 _I was going to visit Shane tomorrow,_ he signed. _Would you like to join me?_

Daryl nodded, happy with the invitation. He needed to speak to Shane anyway, and the thought of going to the ranch and seeing Rick's family and friends filled him with warmth. Rick still wanted him, wanted him to share in his family and this intimate life that Daryl knew hardly anyone else got to see.

Rick smiled, his eyes dropping to Daryl's mouth for a moment, before he sighed and turned away, but Daryl caught him. "No," he said, when Rick could see his lips move. "Don't you fuckin' dare."

Rick raised his eyebrows, but he was smiling a little. _Don't I dare what?_

"Stop yourself," Daryl replied, his hand smoothing out along Rick's cheek.

Rick's eyes dropped to Daryl's mouth again but Daryl knew it wasn't so he could understand. Rick licked his lips and hummed, before he turned on the couch to face Daryl fully. He put a hand in Daryl's shirt and his fist went tight, tugging on the piece of clothing until Daryl had to lean in, and he closed the rest of the distance and pressed their mouths together. It was chaste and light and like fresh air after being kept in a dark cave.

He gasped and Rick pressed the advantage, his other hand going to Daryl's hair to tug him close so that Daryl ended up kneeling between Rick's legs on the couch, his hand braced on Rick's chest to keep him upright and not crushing Rick under his weight. Rick sighed, his thighs gripping Daryl's hips tightly as they kissed, more deeply and more urgently until Daryl's head was heavy and warm and he could hardly breathe.

He pulled back so that Rick could see his face. "Take me upstairs?" he asked, his heart thundering in his chest. Rick's eyes were dark now, hardly anything left of the crystalline blue, and he nodded, stealing one more kiss before he pushed them both upright and took hold of Daryl's wrist and led him up to his bedroom.

Daryl thought he might fall to his knees in relief when the door opened and he took in the familiar sight of Rick's unmade bed. Rick smiled at him and pulled him close, threading his hand through Daryl's hair and putting his other one lightly on Daryl's throat. Daryl whined into the kiss and he was sure Rick could feel it – Rick let out a hum of his own and kissed Daryl again.

"I know you heard my voice," he said. "Did you hear anything else?"

Daryl nodded. "Thought about destroying that fucking thing in my dreams," he said. Rick laughed, his eyes flashing darkly, and he pulled away from Daryl. Daryl whined and tried to follow, only to stop at a look from Rick.

 _Get on the bed,_ he signed. _On your back._

Daryl nodded, breathless already, and obeyed. He watched Rick go to his chest of drawers and pull out a condom and his bottle of lube and he moved back to the bed and set the items down on his bedside table before he climbed over Daryl, straddling his thighs.

 _You might like it if you ever wanted to try,_ he signed, and Daryl growled, his hands flattening on Rick's thighs. Rick was wearing jeans and a t-shirt like he was and he looked almost vulnerable in those clothes after Daryl had seen him in only suits for days. He wore the layers like armor and now he was almost bare for Daryl and it made Daryl's mouth go dry.

Rick laughed, grinning down at Daryl. _I'm still a little slick back there,_ he signed, and Daryl's eyes went wide. _Would you like to feel?_

Daryl nodded, breathless and needy, and Rick hummed and leaned down for a kiss. Daryl's slack mouth answered, his hands fumbling at the button and zip on Rick's jeans and undoing them, pushing them down his hips and thighs. He wasn't wearing any underwear and Daryl growled against his mouth. He flattened his hands on Rick's ass, shivering at the feeling of smooth muscle and skin. His fingertips brushed the slick trail of lube on Rick's body – Rick had showered last night but clearly hadn't bothered doing it well.

"Fuck," Daryl growled, unable to help himself. One of his fingers found Rick's hole and he rubbed the tip along Rick's slick rim, where he was burning hot and wet. Rick shivered, biting his lip, and let out a low, impatient sound as Daryl circled his hole slowly.

One of Rick's hands went to his throat and squeezed hard enough that Daryl gasped, and started to push one finger inside of Rick. He was tight and burning hot and Daryl shivered, biting his lip as Rick watched him. Rick growled and kissed him again as Daryl pushed deep, testing the slick and stretch there from what remained of the night before. How he could feel jealous of a piece of plastic, Daryl would never know, but he did.

He curled his finger as best he could – the angle was shit but he was determined to make it work – and Rick let out a low snarl against his mouth, straightening up. He let go of Daryl's neck and Daryl gasped, knowing that he put enough pressure there to leave a red mark. Rick pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor.

Daryl couldn't help himself. He shoved himself upright on his free hand and pulled Rick into his lap, kissing him as he righted himself and held Rick's shoulders with his arm and sank his finger in deeply. Rick's hands were shaking, his breathing unsteady as he reached for the lube bottle and handed it to Daryl.

"More," he demanded, and Daryl was helpless but to obey. He pulled his finger out and drizzled more on before shoving the lube bottle to one side and put his hands back where they were on Rick's body. Like this, Rick's bare cock dragged against his stomach and his weight was providing wonderful pressure on Daryl's trapped cock.

Daryl growled and rolled them, pinning Rick onto his back as he sank two slick fingers into the other man. Rick sighed, nails raking down Daryl's back and Daryl yanked at Rick's jeans with his free hand, pulling them loose before he slid into place between Rick's legs.

He pulled back so Rick could see his face. He took one of Rick's hands and forced his hand to curl so two fingers were extended, and used his grip to force Rick to tap them against his jaw. "If you want me to stop, do this," he said, and did it again. Rick nodded, breathing hard, his cheeks, neck and chest pink with arousal. Daryl smiled and leaned down to kiss him, sinking his two fingers in deeply.

Rick gasped, hips thrusting up against Rick's hand. " _Fuck_ , Daryl," he growled, and Daryl would never get tired of how Rick said his name like that. He smiled and leaned down, kissing along Rick's chest and then farther, until his jaw hit Rick's red cock. He turned his head and took it in his free hand, fingers forming a tight circle, and angled his mouth so that he could suck the head of Rick's cock into his mouth. " _Fuck_ , God -." Rick let out a breathless, needy snarl, his hand going to Daryl's hair and fisting tightly but not pulling, not yet.

Daryl braced his free hand on the bed and fucked in deeply with his fingers, curling them until he found the little bundle of nerves that felt just slightly different from the rest of Rick. He brushed his fingers against it and Rick cried out, his cock twitching in Daryl's mouth. Daryl hummed, pleased, and sank down a little more, his jaw already starting to ache as he tried to keep pressure on Rick's cock, and rubbed over his prostate again until Rick trembled.

He remembered the shower, where he'd first thought of all the many things he'd do to Rick when and if he ever got him like this. Daryl liked his partners to be so weak with pleasure by the time he got inside them, they couldn't even remember their own name. He sucked on Rick's cock as hard as he could, rubbing his fingers against Rick's prostate until Rick's gut sank in and his thighs started to tremble. His hand was getting almost painfully tight in Daryl's hair.

"Daryl," Rick gasped, his eyes wide. "Daryl, I -." He tugged on Daryl's hair but that wasn't the signal, so Daryl didn't stop. " _Fuck_ -."

Daryl hummed, closing his eyes as he felt Rick's cock twitch in his mouth, and he pulled off just in time for the first spurt of Rick's come to shoot out onto his stomach. Rick gasped, whining at the sudden change in sensation, his stomach sinking in and his chest heaving as he came and made a mess all over his stomach. Daryl hummed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on Rick's thigh as he felt Rick's ass get tight around his fingers. He kept rubbing Rick's prostate, the sadistic part of him enjoying the way Rick whimpered and tightened up whenever he touched it. Then Rick gasped again and tapped his fingers against Daryl's jaw.

Daryl pulled out immediately, wiping his fingers clean on the sheets and following the pull of Rick's hand in his hair so that Rick could kiss him. Rick was breathless, shivering with pleasure and only seemed to quiet when Daryl rested his weight and heat against Rick's chest.

"Daryl," Rick whispered, sounding dazed, and Daryl smiled and kissed him again.

"Not gone with you yet, Grimes," Daryl said, and Rick's eyes widened. He let out a quiet, pained-sounding moan when Daryl slid his hand through the come on Rick's chest and used it for slick when he wrapped his hand around Rick's cock, stroking gently. Rick's hips rose into the action, Daryl could see it was hurting from being so sensitive but Rick wasn't telling him to stop.

They had a lot of time to make up for, in Daryl's opinion.

He reared back and tugged Rick into his lap, silently pleased that Rick's movements were so sluggish already. He put his back to the headboard and pulled Rick close to his chest, before he looked over Rick's shoulder to find the condom. He grabbed it and opened it, sliding it down his cock and letting out a low curse as he did so. He was hard enough that it almost hurt and the promise of Rick's body was threatening to send him over the edge far too soon but he was determined to hold out.

Rick let out a pitiful, needy sound when Daryl pushed his cock inside and let Rick's weight follow the rest of the motion until he was all the way in. Rick was tight, sinfully so, and Daryl bit out a curse, his hands going tight on Rick's thighs to keep him still so that they could both get used to the feeling. Daryl hadn't fucked anything except his own hand in what felt like years (maybe even was), and he wanted to enjoy himself as much as he could.

Rick nuzzled against his shoulder, his hands tight on Daryl's arms. "Daryl, _please_ ," he gasped, tightening up around Daryl in a deliberate motion.

Daryl growled and lifted one hand to tug on Rick's hair like he had seen in the shower – Rick liked his hair being pulled, he could tell. Rick gasped, his eyes wide as Daryl forced their gazes to meet.

"Remember the sign to stop?" he asked, and Rick nodded and tapped two of his fingers against Daryl's jaw. Daryl smiled and turned his head to kiss Rick's palm. "Good. Now here's what's gonna happen."

Daryl didn't think he'd ever had a more attentive audience in his life. Rick's gaze was riveted on his mouth, he looked like a man dying of thirst and each word from Daryl was another sip of water. "I'm gonna fuck you," Daryl said, and Rick let out a weak moan, "and you're gonna use your hands and that pretty mouth to mark me up as much as you damn well please, you understand?"

Rick nodded frantically, pressing their foreheads together, and Daryl rewarded him with a kiss. It occurred to him that Rick would have a lot more freedom to do that if he was on his back, so he pushed Rick to one side and rolled them both until Rick was on his back, Daryl in place between his legs. He used one hand to force his cock back inside and Rick tensed up, his cock twitching as Daryl sank all the way in.

Daryl put his hand in Rick's sweat-damp hair and tugged him up to a kiss before he let him go and plastered himself over Rick. It wasn't difficult to build up a rhythm. Rick's body accepting him easily and Daryl fucked him as hard as he could, trying to find Rick's prostate and made him hard again. Rick gasped, his nails raking down Daryl's back, and he sank his teeth into Daryl's chest and started to suck. It stung and it hurt which was good because the pain was the only thing stopping Daryl from slamming deep and emptying himself into Rick's tight ass as it clenched up around him.

Every moment was another sharp bite, another drag of Rick's nails as Daryl fucked him so hard the bed groaned in protest. Rick was wild underneath him, raking his nails up to grab onto Daryl's nape, tug on his hair, his mouth bit and sucked wherever he could put it until Daryl felt sharp points of stinging pain all along his collarbones, his chest.

Rick moaned weakly when Daryl's cock found his prostate and Daryl fucked against it as much as he could, breathing heavily and grunting with effort. He wanted to _ruin_ Rick. He _needed_ to.

Rick growled and pulled Daryl's hair, forcing his head to one side, and Daryl went still, moaning loudly as Rick's teeth sank against his neck, far too high for a collar to hide it. Daryl trembled, biting his lip hard to stop himself coming on the spot as he felt Rick go tense, dragging his mouth away and giving a pained-sounding whine.

" _Fuck_ ," he whispered. "Shit – that's gonna show."

Daryl pulled back so that Rick could see his face. "I don't care," he replied, and wrapped a hand in Rick's hair, tugging hard enough that Rick gasped and his cock twitched against Daryl's stomach. "Do it again."

Rick moaned weakly but obeyed, sucking another dark mark just shy of the first one. Daryl growled, his spine felt liquid and hot and he was going to come, he knew he couldn't stop himself. He grabbed Rick's free hand and put it to his throat and Rick squeezed gently. Rick was so tight and hot around him, even through the condom.

Daryl let out a low moan, pushing his forehead against Rick's. "'M gonna come," he said, not even sure if Rick could understand him. Rick groaned softly, weak and needy, and dug his nails into the small of Daryl's back, urging him on. He rutted up against Daryl and Daryl gasped breathlessly as he felt Rick start to bear down around him, his ass getting so tight that Daryl had to stop. He put a hand to Rick's cock and stroked quickly and Rick came with a high-pitched growl, shuddering under Daryl's weight as he came over his stomach and Daryl's hand.

That was it. Daryl was only a man. He gritted his teeth and planted his hands on the bed, fucking in one more time before he finally stopped holding back and let his orgasm overtake him. Rick sighed, almost glowing with pleasure as Daryl trembled above him. His hands turned gentle and he smoothed them up Daryl's back, tracing over the light red lines he'd left there. Daryl shivered with each touch, too sensitive and out of it to feel the pain, and then when he was too soft to stay inside, he pulled out.

"Ah, shit," he grunted, reaching down and rolling the shredded remains of the condom off of his cock. "The condom broke."

Rick sighed. _Well, we should probably get ourselves tested anyway, but I'm clean._

"Same here," Daryl replied with a one-shouldered shrug. Truthfully he couldn't think of a single thing hotter than Rick coming inside of him, but figured that that would have to wait until they had been sleeping together for a while, if it ever happened at all. The thought that he might get his wish sooner than expected was a pleasant one.

"Come here," Rick said, pulling Daryl up to lay down next to him. They were both sweaty and gross with come and each other but Daryl couldn't give a flying rat's ass. He finally had Rick again, by his side like it should be, and anything else Blake or Negan or God himself could throw at them wouldn't change that.

He kissed Rick deeply, sighing when Rick lifted a hand to touch his bitten, bruised neck. _I really shouldn't have done that,_ Rick said, looking concerned.

Daryl understood why. "I'll handle it," he promised. Rick was still frowning, but looked less worried at least. Daryl leaned down to kiss the expression away. "Thank you," he said.

Rick blinked at him. _What for?_

Daryl shrugged. "Not stopping yourself, I guess," he said. "You were right. I run away when things get shitty. And I would'a run from this, too."

Rick made a soft, worried sound. He reached out to touch Daryl's cheek.

"I'm not gonna run," Daryl said, and Rick smiled. He pulled Daryl up for another kiss and kissed him deeply, a soft rumble in his chest.


	21. Chapter 21

Sunday morning dawned bright and early and felt like a brand new year. Daryl was sore in the best possible way as he was roused from sleep naturally, called by the faint light coming in around Rick's curtains and the happy chirp of birdsong and cicadas from outside.

Daryl smiled, turning against the warm, flat pillow of Rick's chest and nuzzling the man's shoulder as Rick stirred, one hand instinctively going to Daryl's hair and petting it back from his face. Rick's eyes blinked open, bleary but bright, and he smiled and turned his head to kiss Daryl's hair.

"Mornin'," he murmured, and Daryl hummed a reply and turned his head to kiss Rick's bare chest. They had barely left the bed yesterday, napping and fucking the day away and he knew they were both sore but couldn't bring himself to complain about it. Rick thumbed lightly over the bruises on Daryl's neck, clearly enthralled with them being there despite his anxiousness when he'd first placed them. Daryl had a collar of bruises and bites now, on his neck and shoulders, and his back burned from Rick's nails.

"Morning," he replied, and pushed himself upright so that he could move under the sheet swaddling their waists and straddle Rick's hips. He leaned down and kissed Rick, keeping it closed-lipped and chaste for now, and tugged gently on Rick's messy hair.

Rick sighed against his mouth, hands landing gently on Daryl's flanks and petting down them. Daryl could feel his morning wood between his legs but knew Rick wasn't feeling the urgency yet so he let himself kiss the man again, gentle and slow as Rick's hands settled at the small of his back, gently urging him closer as Rick sat up.

Daryl pulled back from the kiss, his cheeks pink from the heat of Rick's room. Rick was looking at him like Daryl was the single most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on, adoring and gentle as he held Daryl in his lap and leaned in for another kiss that Daryl eagerly granted him.

He knew they were scheduled to go to Shane's and that it was a long drive, but he was enjoying this and was sure Rick was in no hurry himself. He could smell himself on Rick's skin and put his hands on Rick's shoulders, squeezing gently and sliding closer as he felt his chest start to grow warm, his head heavy as he rested his forehead against Rick's.

Rick sighed again, smiling. "I don't wanna leave the bed," he confessed, voice rough from the noises Daryl had dragged out of him the day before and heavy with sleep. Daryl laughed softly, unable to stop himself. He felt elated, giddy. Not even twenty-four hours ago he was sure Rick wanted nothing to do with him but now Rick was touching him, kissing him freely. It was everything he ever wanted.

"We don't have to for a while," Daryl said, pulling back enough that Rick could read his lips. Rick's smile turned wicked for a moment, his eyes flashing, before he shook his head.

He pulled his hands away from Daryl's body and Daryl let out a whimper of loss. _We should get ready to go to Shane's._

Daryl rolled his eyes. _Shower, then?_

_I don't know if I can keep my hands to myself._

_Didn't say you had to._

Rick huffed a quiet, amused breath. _You're insatiable,_ he said. Daryl didn't know that word but he could guess what Rick was saying.

_Is that a bad thing?_

_It's very flattering,_ Rick said. _I'm not sure I'll be able to walk right after yesterday._

Daryl grinned, smug and proud at Rick's confession. He had done his best to wear Rick out, and true to his promise he'd made sure by the end of it that Rick couldn't even sign properly, let alone speak. He rolled his hips, growling softly as his bare cock rubbed against Rick's stomach.

 _I want you to fuck me,_ Daryl signed. Rick's eyes went wide and dark and he licked his lips. He kissed Daryl again, putting his hands in Daryl's hair and gripping tight.

 

 

Shane greeted them with a jovial smile when they pulled up outside of the farmhouse. Lori and Carl were in the field with the horses and they gave little waves that the two returned as Shane approached them. Shane's eyes immediately went to Daryl's neck – he had chosen to wear just a t-shirt and the weather was far too warm for a jacket, so the marks were in plain sight. Not that he cared in the slightest, and Rick didn't seem to mind either. He looked proud, in fact, when Shane shared a knowing smile with his friend – Rick liked that Daryl was so obviously marked and claimed, some possessive part of him purring at the sight of his marks on Daryl's skin. Daryl filed that information away for later as well, sure that he could drive Rick wild with the reminder later when they were back at their house.

"Hey, brother," Shane said, pulling Rick in for a quick hug. "Daryl," he offered, and Daryl grinned and let Shane pull him into a hug as well. He had barely knowing Shane and his family, only slightly less time than he knew Rick, but he felt like he was part of the pack now. He didn't know if Shane knew about the contract, if Rick had told any of them, but Shane didn't look at him any differently or treat him like he knew. "You guys wanna go for a ride?"

"Sure," Daryl said when Rick nodded in answer, already leading the way over to Troublemaker who was standing by the fence, whinnying in greeting at the sight of his master. Buttons was in the circular ring as he had been before and seemed annoyed that Michonne wasn't with them.

Lori looked about ready to burst and she greeted Daryl with a smile, pulling him into a gentle, one-armed hug that kept pressure away from her belly. "It's good to see you again," she said, her eyes bright and her smile gentle and welcoming.

"You too," he said, and nodded to her stomach. "Any day now?"

"Yeah, if she can be bothered to come out," Lori said with a complaining huff, patting her stomach.

"Ain't her fault you're comfy," Shane said, grinning and pulling Lori into a kiss. Then he reached out and put a hand on Carl's shoulder. "You gonna join us today?"

"Sure!" Carl said, grinning.

"Alright, you get Lola. Daryl, you can ride Frenchie. Rick, mind helping me with the tack?"

Rick nodded and followed Shane away from the paddock and to the barn. Buttons whinnied at them both as they passed, his head over the gate and nipping at Rick's shirt. Rick laughed and petted his cheek before following Shane the rest of the way into the barn.

Lori smiled at both of them. "You boys be good. I'm gonna go sit down," she said with another wave, before walking towards the house. Daryl watched her go and resisted the urge to offer to help her. He was sure she would ask if she was having trouble.

That left Carl and him alone with the horses. Troublemaker was nudging at his pocket for the mints Rick so eagerly fed him and Daryl huffed, shoving his muzzle away gently.

"Get outta here, freeloader," he said, and Troublemaker eyed him with his blue eye, rolling it as though offended that Daryl didn't indulge him like his master did.

Carl cleared his throat and looked up at Daryl from under the brim of his wide hat. "So are you and my dad, like, together now?" he asked.

Daryl shifted his weight, feeling awkward. He wasn't sure how much Carl's parents had talked to him about sex and relationships and being gay. "Does that bother you?" he asked.

Carl shrugged. "I knew Dad liked men. Mom told me when I was old enough to know about stuff like that. But you're the first one he's brought here." Daryl blinked at him – that was new information, and honestly it shocked him. Rick had given himself over so freely he was sure that Rick would have introduced other lovers to Lori and Shane, if nothing else than to get a feel of his family's reactions to them.

Daryl nodded after a moment, clearing his throat. "Yeah," he finally said, because he couldn't think of anything else to say. "Yeah, I'm dating your dad."

Carl smiled. "You seem cool," he said. Daryl smiled. "Do you just like men, too, or do you like both?"

Daryl blinked at him, before he cleared his throat again, suddenly feeling awkward. "Uh, no. I just like guys."

"I think I might like both," Carl said. "I haven't told anyone else."

"That's a thing, too. Some people like both. Some people like just one, or neither, or something in between. Doesn't make you weird. And just because you might prefer one doesn't mean you can't like both." Daryl shrugged one shoulder, putting his hands in his pockets. "You like who you like, ya know?"

Carl nodded, this look on his face like he was filing away that information along with important things like the Earth was round and not to touch electric sockets. Daryl had tried to be as open and understanding as he could – he hadn't come from a place of acceptance, even though he hadn't fought his desires when he was younger, he knew he could never bring a boy home to his daddy or brother without fear of a whoopin'.

"I think your folks will understand, when you're ready to tell 'em," he said, "but I'm glad you told me that. I'm here if you ever wanna talk about stuff like that."

Carl smiled at him, and then Shane and Rick returned with the saddles and put them over the edge of the fence. Troublemaker walked right up to Rick and Daryl hid a smile when he saw Rick feed the horse a mint in reward. Troublemaker turned his head to look at him as though reminding him that this was how it was done.

Shane walked away to tack up Buttons, leaving the three of them to harness their individual horses. When they were ready they mounted up and Shane took the lead. Buttons tossed his head, snorting heavily as he was put near Lola. Carl rode next to Shane, Rick and Daryl riding side by side and taking up the rear.

"Hey, Shane," Daryl called, and Shane turned. "Did you ever have a horse called Wallace?"

Shane grinned, letting out a loud laugh. "No. My daddy did, though. Scared the shit outta Rick when we were younger, almost took off with him and we lost him for hours."

Daryl sent a light-hearted glare Rick's way and Rick winked at him. "You're a fuckin' liar," he accused playfully.

Rick grinned. _Technically I said it was Shane's horse. So it wasn't a lie._

"Oh my _God_ ," Daryl muttered, shaking his head. "Pedantic ass."

Rick laughed.

 

 

"So, ladies and gentlemen, I think you can agree that no matter which way you slice it, capturing the market and creating our own Point of Sale to distribute to our sites and essentially ridding ourselves of third party Merchant Service Providers is the best course of action."

The end of Daryl's presentation was met with a chorus of polite applause, and Daryl was pleased to find that most of the board members were nodding along in agreement. Daryl couldn't help feeling proud of himself – the presentation was a sure thing, of that he was absolutely positive. Numbers didn't lie, and people like this liked numbers and plain tables and fancy looking projection charts.

"Thank you, Daryl," Blake said. "I'm sure we'll want to discuss it."

Daryl nodded, sure that he was being dismissed. He shut down his laptop where he'd had his presentation and left the board room as the discussion started up behind him. As soon as he was out of the room he loosened the collar on his shirt and pulled his hair back from his face. He had put his collar up tightly and put his hair forward to hide the bruises on his neck, and stood so his unmarked side faced the room as much as he could. He was sure he had gotten away with hiding them and now he felt like he could breathe easy.

Rick's pride had soaked into him for the entire presentation. He had been quiet, Michonne by his side providing translation so he didn’t risk missing any of the questions from the board and didn't have to worry about missing anyone talking during the meeting, and they'd both stayed behind after Daryl's dismissal.

He didn't really have anything to do now, and it was almost lunch time, so he texted Glenn and invited him back to the Thai place for lunch. Glenn answered him and Daryl left his laptop in his office and met his friend downstairs.

Glenn's eyes fell to his neck and he smirked. "Fall on a handrail?" he asked, nodding to them.

"Don't be a dick," Daryl replied, smirking back.

"I think you're getting plenty of dick without my help," Glenn replied smoothly. "Good to know I'm not getting fired."

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I was…preoccupied."

"I bet," Glenn said. "Maggie says Andrea will be in touch with us soon. She thinks she might be ready for the first part of the case, a hearing or whatever. I'm not sure."

"Rick wants to hire a lawyer too," Daryl replied. They left the office and turned down towards the Thai place. Evelyn wasn't working when they arrived, they were greeted instead by an energetic young man named Joe who led them to their table. It was quieter, before the lunch rush. They ordered the same things they'd had before and were given water before Joe left with their menus and order. "Call me crazy, but I think we might be out of the red now."

Glenn hummed, smiling. He looked happy, giddy almost. Daryl raised an eyebrow. "You look like you have news."

Glenn grinned at him. "Maggie's pregnant," he said, straightening up like a proud lion.

"Shit man, that's awesome!" Daryl said. "How far along is she?"

"A few weeks, if our math is good," Glenn replied, still smiling widely. "And we think we might have found a place in the city we wanna rent out and buy after a year or so."

"Look at us," Daryl said. "It's like we're growin' up."

"I'm so excited I feel like I'm gonna hurl at any given moment," Glenn said, but Daryl could feel his friend's happiness like a second skin. He couldn't stop smiling. Joe returned with their sodas and Daryl raised his glass in a toast to Glenn and Maggie. They clinked glasses and took a drink each.

Daryl hummed after a moment. "You know," he began, stirring his straw in his drink as though in thought, "I thought after I moved away from home and went to Virginia, that I'd never come back here. I thought I'd never feel like I was home again."

"Georgia suits you," Glenn said. "Rick suits you."

"I should visit my brother," Daryl murmured. "He's in King County, locked up for a few more years. I feel like I should visit him, at least let him know I'm alive."

Glenn blinked at him. "I…didn't even know you had a brother."

"I'm sure I told you."

Glenn shook his head. "Never."

Daryl hummed. "Do you think I should see him?"

"I mean, he's your brother," Glenn hedged. "But how long has it been since you spoke to him?"

Daryl shrugged. "Years."

"Do you _want_ to see him, or do you just feel like you should?"

Daryl shrugged one shoulder again. "Dunno," he said. "Maybe I'll ask Rick about it."

Glenn let out a quiet laugh. Joe brought their food and left them in peace. "What?" Daryl asked when Glenn kept smiling.

Glenn shook his head. "I just…feel like this is the best dream I've ever had. And I've never seen you like this, before, even when you were dating – what was his name?"

Daryl blanched. "Spencer."

"Yeah, that guy." Glenn sighed. "I don't know, man, it just feels so awesome being here."

"I know the feeling."

Daryl shifted his weight when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He took it out to see a text from Rick and smiled.

_Are you at lunch?_

_Yeah. The Thai place. You're welcome to join._

_I won't be intruding?_

_Of course not._

_Alright. Thank you, Daryl. I'll be there in a few._

"Rick's gonna join us," Daryl said, only realizing that he hadn't really asked Glenn if it was okay for him to join. Glenn didn't seem bothered – he smiled and nodded in acceptance, tucking into his soup.

Daryl felt when Rick entered the room, like the air changed and became charged with anticipation. He raised his head and smiled when Rick came into view. Rick smiled at him and pulled an empty seat out and sat down with a sigh.

 _The board loved your presentation,_ he signed, and Daryl grinned. _They want to move forward with it._

"Awesome," he said. Glenn glared at him half-heartedly and Daryl grimaced in apology. "Sorry. I presented my plan for our own P.O.S. to the board this morning. Apparently they loved it and they're gonna move forward with it."

"Hot damn," Glenn said. Rick smiled.

 _I'm so proud of you, Daryl,_ he signed, and Daryl blushed. Rick's eyes flashed to Glenn for a moment. _How much sign does your friend know?_

Daryl shook his head. _None_.

Rick's eyes went dark and his smile widened. _When we get back to the office, I'm gonna fuck you over your desk._

Daryl's eyes went wide and he choked out a mouthful of pork, coughing and beating a fist against his chest to try and stop himself choking. Rick clapped his hands together and laughed and Glenn looked at Daryl with wide eyes.

"…You okay, man?"

Daryl glared at Rick and took a long drink of water. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said. "Rick's an asshole."

"Hey, he's still your boss."

Rick grinned and winked at Daryl. _Yeah, Daryl, you better be nice to me._

_I'm gonna fuckin' ruin you when we get home._

Rick's eyes gleamed in anticipation and he smiled. _Bring it on._


	22. Chapter 22

"I didn't – _fuck_ , Rick – I didn't think you were actually serious -."

Daryl cut himself off with another low grown, eyes closing as Rick's hand tightened on his cock, stroking him gently. He had his other hand in Daryl's hair, baring his throat for Rick's mouth, his slacks unbuttoned just enough that Rick could worm his hand underneath his clothing and fist him tightly.

Rick let out a soft growl, Daryl knew he hadn't understood what Daryl said but he could feel the way Daryl's neck moved and vibrated with his voice. Daryl whimpered, shoving his cock through Rick's fingers, his hands kneading at Rick's shoulders and trying desperately to avoid rumpling his suit.

Rick pulled back, his eyes dark. _Turn around,_ he signed, letting Daryl's head go to do it, and Daryl moaned softly and obeyed, turning and planting his hands on his desk as Rick worked his slacks down to his thighs, exposing his ass and his cock to the warm air.

He heard Rick spit on his fingers and fell to his elbows when one of Rick's fingers tested his hole, pushing in just a little to see if Daryl would let him. Daryl didn't have any lube and the only thing that was close was hand sanitizer – which he would _definitely_ not want anywhere near Rick's cock _or_ his ass – but he was willing to try with just spit and hope for the best.

Hell, he was willing to try just about anything, as long as it was something Rick wanted.

He bit down on his knuckles when Rick worked a finger in and Rick growled, stepping close and reaching around to fist Daryl's cock again. Daryl could feel Rick's erection, still trapped in his clothes and grinding against his thigh. Rick bit him through his shirt and Daryl trembled, cock jerking in Rick's tight grip.

He heard Rick spit on his fingers again and then Rick worked one of his fingers all the way inside. It burned in the best way and Daryl flattened his whole palm over his mouth to stifle his sounds. It was slow going and he was breathing heavily like he'd just run a marathon, but his body knew Rick and _wanted_ Rick and Goddamn if Rick kept touching him like that…

Rick bit down, hard, and growled lowly. "Love feelin' you like this," he confessed, his voice hoarse. It made Daryl's stomach tighten up and clench in anticipation. Fuck but he loved hearing Rick talk, knowing that it was because of him that Rick was comfortable enough and turned on enough to try.

He hissed and whined when Rick tried to put another finger in him. It was too dry and he wanted it but he wasn't honestly sure they could make it work. Rick stopped trying and instead curled his finger down, rubbing along Daryl's prostate as hard as he could while his other hand stroked Daryl quickly, fingers tight.

Daryl's shoulders went tense and he shuddered, curling in on himself from the onslaught of sensation. He knew if he let go of his own mouth he'd be screaming so he clung to his jaw and clamped his hand tight in an effort to keep quiet.

Since Rick's hands were occupied they couldn't communicate with each other and Daryl whined when he felt Rick's thumb brush behind his balls, pinching his prostate until it felt like it was being touched from all sides. His cock jerked and started to leak, he was going to come and make a mess all over the front of his desk and God how the fuck would he explain _that_ and -.

"Come for me, Daryl," Rick growled, his lips right by Daryl's ear. Daryl turned his head and Rick kissed his red cheek, slack-mouthed and needy like he was deep inside Daryl and about to come himself. Daryl whimpered, clenching his eyes tightly shut.

He shuddered when he came, Rick's name shouted into the palm of his hand. He could feel some of it catch on his shirt and the wet sound of it hitting his desk and it was so fucking _dirty_ , he loved it. Rick let go of his cock and pulled his fingers out and Daryl immediately turned around, falling to his knees and fumbling with Rick's slacks with clumsy, uncoordinated hands until he could get Rick's cock free and suck it into his mouth.

Rick cursed, more of a grunt than any real word. His hand went to Daryl's hair, fisting tightly, and he growled quietly as he drove his hips forward in one smooth motion, forcing Daryl to take as much of him as he could before Daryl choked. He put his hands on the backs of Rick's thighs to encourage him to keep going and then Rick was fucking his mouth quickly – short, jerky thrusts that caught on the back of Daryl's throat and made his mouth tender and sore.

Then Rick went still and Daryl didn't pull off – it didn't matter to him at this point, they were going to get tested anyway and he was sure neither of them had any diseases. He angled his head to catch Rick's eyes and flattened one hand on Rick's heaving chest, curling his fingers around his tie to encourage him to keep going.

Rick's eyes were wide, his mouth open and slack, and then he pet Daryl's hair away from his face with both hands and gritted his teeth, holding Daryl's mouth still and forcing him to take his cock all the way one more time. He held himself there until Daryl's throat went tight and spasming, fighting the urge to gag, and then he pulled out almost all the way until Daryl could tease the head of his cock with his tongue.

Then he was coming, his stomach tensing up and a low snarl coming from his chest as his cock twitched in Daryl's mouth and he started to come. Daryl moaned, the sound stifled in his gagged mouth, turning his head and sucking as hard as he could to get Rick to empty himself inside of his mouth. Rick was breathing raggedly, flushed and pretty in the light.

Daryl kept sucking long after Rick stopped coming, until Rick winced and pulled out. There was a thin string of spit connecting Daryl's tongue to the head of his cock and Daryl chased it, licking Rick's cock clean with a coy, kittenish swipe of his tongue that made Rick shiver.

He hauled Daryl to his feet and shoved him onto his dirty desk, kissing him breathlessly. One hand left Daryl's hair and fisted in the front of his shirt – Rick, it seemed, didn't give a fuck if Daryl ended up looking like a two-dollar whore by the end of it. That was his possessiveness again, the part of him that Daryl knew purred and lit up whenever he left visible marks or whenever Daryl did something that reminded Rick of how wholly Daryl gave himself over at moments like this.

Finally Rick pulled back, both of them too out of breath to keep going. Daryl cleared his throat, wincing at how sore it was, and Rick bit his lip and his thumb brushed along Daryl's sore jaw, his tender mouth. He pulled away and adjusted his clothes until he looked semi-decent again.

Daryl let out a shaky laugh. _I thought you were kidding_ , he signed, since he was sure Rick hadn't heard him when he'd said it out loud before.

Rick's eyes flashed. _And now_? he asked, smirking.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Obviously not _now_ ," he said, and got off his desk. He winced at the sight of the comestain, smeared over the front of the dark wood. He could feel it against his skin where Rick had shoved him onto the desk and grimaced, pulling his slacks up around his waist and fixing his shirt. He just hoped to God there wasn't a stain on the back of them, or if there was, then no one would notice.

Rick let out a quiet, wanting sound, and pulled Daryl into another kiss that Daryl had no hope of resisting. His skin felt alight whenever Rick touched him, his body and his brain soaked to the core with happiness and endorphins and something that he knew was simply _Rick_.

Finally Daryl pulled back, knowing if he kept going then he'd make good on his _own_ promise but his promise required lube and a place where they could be loud. "I have something for you," he said, and Rick raised an eyebrow. Daryl smiled and turned, going to his desk, and pulled out a thin black folder. He handed it to Rick.

Rick eyed him carefully. _We don't have a good track record for stuff like this_ , he said.

Daryl nodded, biting his lower lip. "Open it."

Rick did so, his eyes sharpening and his posture melting back into the cool, confident C.F.O. that Daryl had first met. Then, he blinked, and his eyes widened. He looked up at Daryl. "Is this…?"

Daryl nodded. "It's everything," he said. "You find a good lawyer and it's more than enough to file the suit."

Rick nodded, looking dazed. _I told Michonne about the whole thing,_ he signed, and Daryl nodded – she had, after all, been in the room the last time they'd talked about it. Daryl remembered that Rick had told him he'd wanted it kept between the two of them but Michonne was literally Rick's right-hand woman and she would have found out eventually. Daryl had the feeling that there was very little Rick kept from her, if his whole mess about the contract was any indication. _She has a lawyer lined up and waiting for this. This is…_

Rick looked at him again. "This is everything, Daryl," he said.

Daryl nodded. _Records, transfers, everything for Penny Rose which I believe is the alias he was using to do it. Every withdrawal under that name gets deposited in a foreign bank, and from there I had Shane look and he told me it's going to an offshore account in the Caymans._

Rick frowned. _So we probably won't get it back._

 _It's a lot of money,_ Daryl signed. _Over one hundred thousand dollars. It's enough to file criminally, I think. I'm not really sure. But it's enough._

 _It'll get him blacklisted from every working in corporate again,_ Rick finished, a smile on his face like he had just glimpsed his favorite treasure in the next room. He held the folder up. _I'll take this to the lawyer immediately. Daryl…there's no possible way I can thank you. For everything. You have no idea how much this means to me._

Daryl bit his lower lip, looking down. In truth he still felt he owed Rick more than he could ever repay. Rick had taken him in, taken his friend in, and given them both a home and a future that Daryl had scarcely imagined was possible.

He shifted his weight and rubbed the back of his head, trying to flatten his hair out. "Can I take the rest of the day?" he asked. Rick blinked at him and cocked his head to one side. "I wanna…I wanna go visit my brother. Looked up where he is, the prison's about an hour drive away."

Rick smiled. _Of course_ , he signed. _I'll see you at home._

Daryl had no love of prisons. He couldn't imagine a single person who did, but the King County Penn was a particularly sordid brand of shitty. It looked like something straight out of post-Apocalyptic fallout, completed with a half-collapsed tower and high, wicked-looking barbed fences. Daryl drove into the visitor section which was scarcely more than a trailer parked outside of the main building. People who ended up here didn't often get visitors.

"Dixon? Merle Dixon?" the guard asked, sounding incredulous.

Daryl nodded. "Yeah. I'm his brother."

The guard nodded, writing down that information on the sign-in sheet. There was only one other name and the list went back as far as six months. "Alright. Jerry here will lead the way." A kind-looking, round-faced man approached and gestured for Daryl to follow him. He confiscated Daryl's keys, jacket and cell phone with a promise to return them when Daryl left.

He was led to a room that looked vaguely like a cafeteria. There were no other prisoners or guards that he could see and he wasn't sure if that was because this prison was understuffed or because he was in a section where they simply didn't go. Each step was slick with grime, the walls were dirty and there were cobwebs and rats everywhere.

He sat down on a bench and Jerry left the room, returning a moment later with Merle Dixon. Merle looked…startlingly good, considering he was cuffed by hand and foot and wearing those God-awful orange jumpsuits. But he didn't have the crazy, high look in his eyes. His skin was tanner than Daryl had last seen him, he looked well-fed and fit. It was such a far cry from the Merle Daryl remembered he almost wanted to ask if they'd fetched the wrong prisoner.

But then Merle grinned and let out a crow of delight, shuffling over. "Lil bro!" he said. "If it ain't my princess Darlena. How the fuck you been?"

Daryl winced. Merle had always been loud. After being around Rick so much he had almost forgotten how loud people's voices could be. Even when he spoke Rick was quiet, and Michonne never raised her voice either.

Jerry cuffed him to a bolt in the table and took his position by the door.

"Merle," Daryl said, clearing his throat when the silence stretched on a little too long. "Hey. I'm sorry I -."

"Forgot all about lil ol' me?" Merle said, grinning. His teeth were yellow and he was missing a few more since the last time Daryl saw him. Daryl bit his lip, feeling guilty despite himself, and nodded. The action caused his hair to move and Merle's sharp eyes flashed to the marks on his neck. "You lose a fight with a vacuum?"

Daryl blushed, reaching up to pull his hair forward. "Shut up," he said.

"She got big tits?" Merle said, grinning. "C'mon, bro, ain't got nothin' here but my own hand. Gimme _somethin_ ' to work with. She tall? I know you like 'em tell."

"She ain't a she, so shut the fuck up," Daryl snapped. He didn't mean to say it, but there it was anyway. Merle blinked at him, before he sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.

"Forgot yer a damn queer," he said. He sounded disappointed, but more for the fact that Daryl wouldn't be providing him any jerk-off material and not the fact that Daryl liked men. Way more understanding than their daddy had ever been, that was for damn certain.

"I'm sorry I didn't visit sooner," Daryl said.

"Mm, and why didn'tcha?"

"I wasn't here. Was in Virginia."

"The fuck's in Virginia?"

"School, first. Then a job."

"And now you're back," Merle said, grinning slyly, "'cause some pretty boy batted his lashes atcha?"

Daryl blushed again, knowing it gave him away as soon as he did. Merle crowed with delight and beat his big fists on the table hard enough to make Daryl jump. "Knew it!" he said, stretching the words out for several beats. "Dixon men're always suckers for a good piece of ass."

"God, why did I even come here?" Daryl muttered.

"'Cause momma beat some good Christian guilt into ya 'fore she iced herself," Merle said. "Or I guess burned herself? Whatever you wanna call it."

"I just wanted to come see you," Daryl said quietly. "Just…to make sure you were okay. Because I'm doin' okay, and I didn't know…"

"Hey, don't you worry 'bout me," Merle said with a grin. "I'm doin' just fine." And maybe he was – he looked a damn sight healthier than Daryl remembered him being the night police had busted down the door and taken him away with a stash of cocaine and a needle in his arm. Merle hadn't been careful, not in the slightest. They'd interrogated Daryl for almost two days before determining that he hadn't been involved in the whole business. He'd gotten a warning and a slap on the wrist for knowing about the illegal activity, and that had been that.

"Are you?" Daryl asked, because he had to be sure. He was certain that he wasn't going to be coming back.

"Sure," Merle replied, grinning again. "I got a sweet setup goin' on in here. No bills, no bitches, no problem." He sighed and shook his head. And he did look well-fed and clean despite the otherwise despicable state of the prison. "And I'm out in, what? Four years?" It four years, Jerry?" Merle called over his shoulder.

"Forty-three months," Jerry replied.

"There ya go," Merle finished with a smile.

Daryl cocked his head to one side. He wondered if he should mention that, technically, he might be able to get Merle out earlier if he behaved himself. He was sure the prison would have told him, as Merle's only living kin, if he had been getting uppity. But maybe they wouldn't have. He wasn't sure.

"Bye, Merle," Daryl said, standing. Merle waved at him with two fingers, cuffs clinking as he did so. Jerry escorted him out and returned his wallet, keys and jacket. Daryl thanked him and got back into his car and made the long, peaceful drive back to Rick's house.

He let himself in. Rick was watching the news with the closed captions on again, the T.V. on mute. He looked up when Daryl entered, catching the light as Daryl flicked it on to take off his shoes, and smiled at him.

 _How did it go?_ he signed when Daryl took a seat next to him. Rick reached out with one arm and laid it against the back of the couch, playing with Daryl's hair as Daryl sighed and closed his eyes, leaning into the touch.

"About as well as I expected," he replied, smiling lopsidedly.

Rick waited until his eyes were open before he signed again. _Can I do anything?_

Daryl shook his head and turned into Rick, resting his head on Rick's shoulder. Rick hummed and kissed his forehead.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a pure porn chapter. Y'all deserve it.

Daryl woke to the sound of his cell phone going off, the shrill ringtone pulling him from pleasant sleep and into wakefulness. He let out a grunt of protest and raised his head from Rick's shoulder, carefully untangling himself from the mess of sheets and limbs they had created in his room, and reached blindly for his phone.

It wasn't a registered contact, but it was a number he recognized. Negan's office. He bit his lip and pressed the lock button on his phone so that the call went quiet and his phone stopped vibrating, and he turned the phone to silent and set it back down before rolling over and cuddling back up to Rick.

Rick stirred, letting out a sleepy-sounding groan, and rolled over, wrapping his arms around Daryl's shoulders and pulling him close. He kissed lazily at Daryl's messy hair. "Mornin'," he whispered. Daryl smiled and nuzzled against his neck.

"Morning," he replied. The time on his phone had told him it was almost six in the morning, so they had time to be lazy before they'd have to get up and get ready for work. The commute (or lack thereof) meant that they could easily leave at 8:45 and still be in the office on time.

He wondered if it was Negan himself who was calling him, or if the man had made Eugene or Dwight reach out. He didn't care, nothing could touch him now. He had Rick's love and loyalty, he had his integrity back, and just a few days ago he had given Rick the ultimate power to bring Blake down for the embezzlement, the suspicions of which had proven all-too-true.

Rick hummed, pulling back so he could see Daryl's face. He pushed a hand through Daryl's hair, tucking it behind his ear, and flattened his hand gently on Daryl's neck. The bruises from his mouth had faded almost to the point of being gone. "Awake already?" he asked.

Daryl nodded. "My phone was ringing," he said. "We can sleep more."

Rick hummed again and kissed Daryl's forehead, before he pulled back. "Gotta pee," he said with a roll of his eyes and Daryl laughed as he pushed himself out of bed and walked into the bathroom. He closed the door and was gone for a few minutes before returning.

Daryl welcomed him with another kiss, smiling as Rick climbed on top of him in the bed and straddled his thighs, both hands in Daryl's hair and petting lightly as he held Daryl's head still and deepened the kiss.

His lips were slack, mouth lazy as he kissed Daryl and Daryl moaned softly, parts of him already more than awake as Rick's warmth and weight settled over him. They'd both gone to a clinic after work one night and received a clean bill of health, but had lacked the energy and need to do more than kiss and cuddle since then. They had time, now, and Daryl's chest was getting hot and tight as Rick touched him.

"Rick," he gasped when Rick pulled back, biting gently at his jaw and exposed neck, his hands sliding from Daryl's hair and down his chest and pressing flat. Daryl's heart thundered in his chest, driving his body into wakefulness as Rick's hips moved, just a little, and the other man let out a soft growl when he felt Daryl's erection between his legs. He kissed Daryl again and Daryl reached for him, clawing at his shirt. "Fuck, get naked already."

Rick laughed, his eyes bright and his smile cocky, but he straightened and pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to one side. Daryl leaned up immediately, sucking on a piece of exposed skin and Rick shivered, biting his lower lip and cradling Daryl's head with one hand, the other fisting tight in Daryl's t-shirt.

Daryl bit down over the mark he'd left, delighting in the shiver it pulled from Rick, and then he surged up and forced Rick onto his back on the bed, sliding between his legs when Rick let out a breathless, startled laugh.

 _Are you going to fuck me, Daryl?_ he signed, biting his lower lip.

Daryl kissed him. "I will if you're naked by the time I get back," he said, dark with promise. Rick's eyes were wide and blackened already and he nodded as Daryl pushed himself up from the bed and went over to the drawer where Rick kept the lube.

He turned around and his breath left him in a heavy gust when he saw Rick, bare and splayed out on his bed. One hand was stroking his cock loosely, the other brushing across the mark Daryl had left on his chest. He bit his lip, mouth dry at the sight, and prowled back over and onto the bed, setting the lube bottle down by Rick's thigh.

"Christ, you're beautiful," he breathed, unable to stop himself. Rick blushed and rose up to meet him for a kiss, moaning quietly when Daryl took over on his cock, fingers wrapped tight around the length of it and stroking slowly. Daryl kissed him feverishly, like the antidote to a poison was held in Rick's mouth. Rick met him eagerly, pulling his legs up so that his thighs framed Daryl's waist, his hands sliding into place on Daryl's shoulders.

"Daryl," Rick growled, complaining. _Too many clothes_.

Daryl smiled and pulled back after one more kiss. "I wanna take my time with you," he said, sliding his hands down the insides of Rick's pale thighs. They trembled under his touch, he was so warm and eager under Daryl's hands.

Rick's eyes flashed and he gasped as Daryl leaned down to kiss his chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth. Rick arched up against him, shivering, another sweet whine stuck in his throat as he put a hand in Daryl's hair. Daryl sucked on the sensitive nub, teasing it with his tongue, satisfied with every twitch and jerk he could coax from Rick when he did it.

He took Rick's cock in hand again, stroking loosely, and swiped his thumb over the head to gather the little drop of moisture already beading there. He slicked it down Rick's shaft, growling when Rick's hand tightened in his hair.

He reared up and took Rick's hand away, planting it on the bed. "Stay still," he commanded. Rick's eyes went wide and he sucked in a harsh breath. "If you need me to stop, say so." Rick nodded to show he understood, knowing that if Daryl told him to keep his hands still he wouldn't be able to use the other signal. Daryl eyed him for another moment, making sure Rick was okay with this, before he leaned back down and kissed him chastely in reward. "Hands by your head. That's it."

Rick put his other hand on the pillows, turning them both to fist them tightly and Daryl's breath stuttered at how _good_ it felt to have Rick obeying him. He had never been with someone so sexually compatible with him and it was making him lightheaded with all the possibilities. He had yet to find something Rick liked that he didn't, and vice versa.

Daryl smiled, slow and proud. "Good boy," he murmured, and Rick's cock twitched in his hand as the other man let out a quiet, plaintive noise. He slid back on the bed so that he could lean down and suck the head of Rick's cock into his mouth. Rick moaned loudly, stomach sinking in as he fought the urge to grab Daryl's hair.

Daryl reached out with his free hand and grabbed the lube bottle, opening it and letting go of Rick's cock so he could slick his fingers with it, before he pushed the bottle to one side and let it roll off the bed and onto the pile of Rick's clothes.

 _God_ , he wanted. He wanted to fuck Rick until he screamed himself hoarse. He wanted Rick inside of him, splitting him apart and coming in him so that Daryl could feel it leak back out. He wanted both things at once.

He hummed around Rick's cock, sinking his mouth down until his nose brushed the hair at the base and Rick groaned like he was in pain. Daryl let his mouth get slick, let it leak out around his lips and coat Rick's cock as he moved his mouth and started to press one slick finger against Rick's tight hole. He heard the pillows moving as Rick clenched his hands in them, whimpering when Daryl shoved his finger all the way inside and immediately curled it up to find Rick's prostate.

He pulled off of Rick's cock and smiled, wickedly pleased at the desperate noise Rick made. He knelt up so Rick would be able to read his lips; "Here's what I want," he said, working in a second finger alongside the first and making Rick gasp, hips arching up to try and get him deeper. "I wanna fuck you. And I also want you to fuck me and come in me." Rick groaned, eyelids fluttering closed for a moment as Daryl found his prostate and rubbed against it, making Rick's cock twitch again and his stomach sink in as he tried to control his breathing. "How do you think we can get that to happen?"

Rick's fingers twitched but he didn't let go of the pillows. Daryl knew what he wanted to ask – he needed to sign. Or at least felt more comfortable doing it. Daryl wouldn't tell him he couldn't, but _God_ the sound of Rick _saying_ it might actually be the closest Daryl ever got to Heaven in his waking life.

"F- _fuck me_ ," Rick growled, his teeth gritted as Daryl touched his prostate again. "I can hold back."

"Mm, you gonna let me fuck you and hold off so you can get in me?" Daryl asked, breathless with arousal.

Rick nodded frantically, breathing hard, and Daryl smiled. "Alright," he said, and pulled his fingers out. Rick gasped, trembling as he lay still and waited for Daryl's next order. Daryl wrapped his slick fingers around Rick's cock and stroked once. "If you think you're gonna come, let me know."

Rick nodded again. "Roll over."

Rick scrambled to obey and Daryl moved to let him, his breath leaving him like he'd been punched as he watched Rick go to his elbows and knees, putting his hands back on the pillows and bowing his back to show Daryl his slick hole. Daryl growled, pawing roughly at Rick's thighs to get him to spread them more. He let go just long enough to push his sweatpants down to his knees and knelt between Rick's thighs, angling his cock so that the head pushed against Rick's ass.

"Daryl, _please_ ," Rick begged, his voice wrecked and low.

"God, I could look at you like this forever," Daryl confessed, both glad and wistful that Rick couldn't hear or understand him. He took a deep breath in, and with one hand guided his cock against Rick's ass and started to push in. Both of them let out desperate, low growls at the feeling. Rick was so tight and hot and Daryl hadn't fucked him without a condom on yet but it was somehow so much better, feeling Rick all slick and tight around him. He pushed his hands against Rick's shoulders, forcing him down onto his chest, and gritted his teeth when Rick whined and tightened up around his cock until Daryl felt like he was suffocating.

" _Fuck_ ," Rick hissed, jerking his hips back before Daryl could push in all the way, forcing their bodies to collide together with the same force as gravity, an avalanche. Daryl closed his eyes and plastered himself over Rick's back, slick with sweat now. He leaned up to pull his shirt over his head but returned to that position immediately and Rick whined, holding strong and steady as Daryl started to move.

He put a hand in Rick's hair and tugged him upright, forcing Rick up to his hands, his head bent back. Rick gasped loudly, his eyes closed, as Daryl started up a brutal pace inside of him. Daryl couldn't help biting at Rick's shoulders, marking him up just as Rick had done to him the first time Daryl fucked him. Daryl wrapped his free arm around Rick's chest and found one of his nipples again, pinching it until Rick shivered and moaned for him.

"You feel so fuckin' good," Daryl snarled. He felt like he was grabbing too hard but Rick was giving no sign that he was in pain or disliked how Daryl was touching him. Every time Daryl pinched or twisted his nipple he felt Rick's ass get tight, clenching around him in time with his powerful thrusts. He wasn't going to last long and didn't give a damn because he had Rick, this strong and beautiful man pinned under him and so responsive, _loud_ with his moans and cries of pleasure. Daryl wanted to ruin Rick, for Rick to think about him whenever he felt this way, to depend on his touches and his mouth and his cock for anything half as satisfying as when he touched himself.

He raked his nails across Rick's stomach and Rick whimpered when Daryl wrapped a hand around his cock. It was leaking and hard, warm and tender in Daryl's hand. Rick slammed a hand against the headboard and used it as leverage to push back, force Daryl's cock inside of him with more fervor, with greater desperation.

Daryl twisted his other hand in Rick's hair, pulling until he knew it had to hurt but Rick was loving it, crying out desperately when Daryl found his prostate with his cock and fucked against it. "Daryl," he gasped, reaching back and collapsing to his elbow again when he couldn't hold both their weights. His hand found Daryl's thigh, nails digging in. "Daryl, _fuck_ , please – _please_."

"Gonna come," Daryl gasped, and even though Rick didn't hear him he was sure Rick understood. Rick moaned, going still and quiet as Daryl let go of his cock and his hair and put his hands tight on Rick's hips, holding him still as he continued to thrust.

"Come in me," Rick demanded, quiet and unsteady, and who was Daryl to resist such a sweet plea? He titled his head back and growled deep in his chest, fucking in a few more harsh times before he felt his orgasm sweep out of him, caving in his chest and whiting out his vision. He could feel his come coating his cock, adding to the slick there, he had _marked_ Rick just as surely as the bruises on his shoulders and the marks bitten into Daryl's neck.

When he was done, he pulled out with another breathless gasp, his eyes wide as he watched Rick's ass clench up once he was free. He dug his thumbs into either side of his hole and squeezed, breathing hard as he watched a thick trail of come leaking out of Rick's hole. _Fuck_ , but if that wasn't the prettiest damn thing he'd ever seen.

He leaned down and kissed Rick's back, smoothing his hands up the man's heaving sides, and coaxed Rick onto his back on the bed. Rick was gazing up at him like Daryl was some kind of God and Daryl smiled, crawling over Rick and kissing his slack mouth. Rick's cock was heavy and red, resting on his stomach.

"Gotta grab the lube," he whispered, and Rick bit his lip and nodded. Daryl climbed off the bed, shedding his remaining clothes, and retrieved the bottle. He returned quickly, every part of him demanding he return to Rick's warmth, his hands and his mouth and the promise of getting him deep inside.

He poured more onto his fingers and reached back to stretch himself open. His body was loose and relaxed after his orgasm and he managed to get one finger inside of him easily. Rick couldn't stop touching him, too frantic and touch-starved to resist petting up Daryl's flanks, through his hair, dragging him down for a kiss whenever Daryl went the right kind of lax.

Then, Daryl pushed a second finger inside of himself, shivering at the feeling. He tugged on one of Rick's hands and guided it to his neck and Rick tightened his hold there immediately, knowing Daryl liked the pressure there. They were both sweaty and breathing hard and Daryl felt like he could still sprint a marathon with the way Rick was watching him, eyes sharp and predatory, waiting, anticipating.

Daryl pulled his fingers out, unable to keep them waiting any longer. He sat up and Rick immediately took his cock in hand and pressed it against Daryl's ass and Daryl sighed, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he forced his body to accept Rick's cock, to open up and let Rick inside of him as he sank back down until he was fully seated in Rick's lap.

" _Daryl_ ," Rick growled, just as wrecked and ruined as Daryl wanted him. His big hands flattened on Daryl's ass and helped him move and build up a rhythm, and Daryl planted his hands on Rick's chest and moved as best he could. His thighs burned and he ached but he _wanted_ it, he wanted it so fucking badly.

"Gonna come in me, Rick?" Daryl asked, breathless and wanton and Rick nodded eagerly, biting his lower lip. Daryl smiled and leaned down, kissing Rick hard as Rick pulled his feet up on the bed and planted them so that he had leverage to thrust. Each thrust stung, teased at Daryl's sensitive insides and he could feel how close Rick was. He was ready, _waiting_ -. "C'mon, gimme what I fuckin' want."

Rick groaned, going still and shoving his cock as deep into Daryl as he could get it, and Daryl trembled at the needy, satisfied sound Rick let out against his mouth. His hand tightened on Daryl's throat and his body gave one long shudder and Daryl felt the warmth of Rick's come inside of him, felt it leaking out past his cock and down Daryl's thighs.

He smiled, pleased and sated, and kissed Rick as Rick snarled and rolled his hips, chasing his orgasm as he emptied his cock inside of Daryl's ass. He kissed Daryl roughly, all teeth biting at his lower lip until it stung and then licking over the sore spot, his hand moving from Daryl's neck to his hair to hold him still as Rick worked his body back and forth on his softening cock.

Then Rick went lax, breathing out heavily, and Daryl sat up just enough that Rick's cock could slide out of him. Rick winced and Daryl shivered, biting his lip as he felt Rick's come slick his thighs. He wanted to keep going but knew neither of them would be able to so soon.

He kissed Rick again, tugging on his hair until Rick moaned, and then Rick rolled them and pushed Daryl onto his back, covering Daryl with his heat and weight. Daryl shivered when he felt Rick's lube-slick cock slide against his own, rutting against him like an animal in heat.

Then they pulled apart, too out of breath to keep going, and Daryl let out a quiet, breathless laugh. "That was awesome," he said, running a hand through his hair.

Rick grinned, his eyes bright, cheeks red from the heat in the room. He kissed Daryl again, as though unable to resist, petting his sweaty hair away from his face. Daryl sat up so that he could see Rick's alarm clock and groaned. It was almost seven – they'd actually have to start getting ready for work soon.

Rick chuckled, pulling Daryl into a loose, warm embrace. "We have time before my alarm goes off," he said.

Daryl smirked, turning and resting his head on Rick's shoulder. Rick hummed and kissed his hair and Daryl closed his eyes.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk how embezzlement investigations go sooooooooooooo here it is.

Daryl remembered the first time he'd ever gone to a legitimate college class. It had been an elective, and English course he'd had to take and he'd taken it purely on the fact that the professor was cute – apparently he had a thing for older men in suits, who would have guessed. But the first part of the class had been analyzing Chaucer and Daryl would rather do twelve months of hard labor in a salt mine or some shit like that before he opened another one of that guy's works ever again. He hadn't understood half of it and the other he'd bullshitted as much as possible, based off of whatever everyone else was saying. He'd barely passed.

Sitting with Andrea felt like that. She'd asked him to meet her in the morning for another meeting, and when Daryl had told Rick, he'd invited Rick along because Rick knew now, and Daryl was determined never to hide anything from him again.

Rick had claimed to find his own lawyer and the man was sitting with them as well. His name was Jim Henson and he had absolutely nothing to do with Rick's company, which Daryl assumed Rick had done on purpose.

They were going over the contract and Jim seemed to hate it just as much as Rick and Daryl did. Andrea, at least, was more reticent when it came to her personal opinion on the matter – if she thought Daryl was a piece of shit for signing it, she gave far less indication than Jim did. Michonne wasn't with them, as she had needed to stay in the office. Daryl hoped it didn't get too deep so that he could still translate for Rick if he needed to.

"I think the best way to go about this is a negotiation," Andrea finally said with a sigh, taking a sip of her water.

Jim scoffed. "No. We can totally go about a party breach. It says Daryl has access to any and all resources with his company and you said he fired two of the main players in the support department – one of which was directly after Daryl tried to file for closure with the accounts."

"Right, but technically that's not legally enforceable. And I want to go another angle with Ms. Chambler's termination."

Daryl winced, remembering Tara. He hoped she was doing okay. Carol, too. He should call her. "The office called me the other morning," Daryl said. "No voicemail, but several calls. I think they want to talk to me."

Andrea's sharp eyes looked him over. "The next time they call, answer," she said. "You remarked that Negan had been very aggressive with you. Maybe he's fired more people."

"He can't," Daryl said with a shake of his head. He was sure of that. "There's only so many people he could fire before support goes up in smoke. Glenn and I were the best there, and after Tara and Carol are gone I can't imagine he has the manpower to keep the place runnin' like it was."

"All the more reason for him to want results," Andrea said. "I'm tempted to call him myself and try to schedule a negotiation meeting, if nothing else than to get a feel for the guy. It's hard to fight someone I haven't met."

Daryl smiled. "I have his cell number, if you want it."

"Please," Andrea said, and Daryl wrote it down for her on the corner of the front contract page. Next to him, Rick let out a quiet noise and Daryl moved his gaze so he could watch Rick sign; "What kind of timeline are we looking at, here?"

"What if we worked the angle that Daryl is unable to continue in this contract?" Jim asked after a moment. "'Conflict of interests', or something."

Andrea raised an eyebrow. "You want to claim personal investment?"

"I mean, clearly Daryl has had a change of heart."

"That's all well and good, but you can't get out of something like this because you don't want to do it anymore."

"I'd agree with you, but this isn't like buying a house or signing a lease. Daryl is fully within his rights to – and, honestly, this constitutes as blackmail which is borderline illegal anyway."

"That's not good enough for me. I want solid negotiations."

"What were you thinkin'?" Daryl asked. He wasn't sure what they could possibly negotiate. Negan wanted the accounts, he wanted to move into Europe with Rick's money.

Andrea smiled. "Well, I suppose that depends on how much you're both willing to concede."

Daryl looked over at Rick, who was frowning. He signed to Daryl; _If we simply move away from the accounts and stop processing, we'll still get charged…what? Seven-fifty per account each month, and then the one-hundred-fifty each year, right?_

Daryl nodded. _The statement fees are up to eight-seventy-five now,_ he replied. Rick nodded, his eyes flashing as he did the math in his head. _It's about seventy-six grand, every year you're losing. Total._

Rick nodded, pressing his lips together. _Plus whatever fees we'd be charged for processing with him. What do you think we could do about rates?_

Daryl considered. _If we go into the Amex enrollment for all the accounts, and let Negan keep the ones he has and continue to make our own P.O.S. and branch out from there, I think we could talk him down in rates significantly. I think at this point it's more personal than money._

 _Money's always personal,_ Rick replied, a small, rueful smile on his face.

"We're willing to set up a meeting," Daryl said, translating for Rick as he straightened and looked at Andrea and Jim.

"Excellent," Andrea said. "I'll call him this afternoon and set something up."

"I know it's too soon to say, but how do you think this will go down?"

Andrea sighed. "Honestly? I'm not sure. My main goal is getting you out of this contract and then helping Ms. Chambler with her case. After that we can talk about freeing your company from his altogether."

Jim nodded. "I'm willing to try the personal conflict angle," Andrea said after a moment. "But first I want to talk to this man and get a feel for him. I'll be in touch with you both as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Ms. Harrison. Mister Henson," Daryl said, standing when they did and he and Rick shook the lawyers' hands. "Lookin' forward to it."

Andrea smiled, and Daryl and Rick left her office as both the lawyers returned their attention to the contracts in front of them, already deep in conversation again. Each copy of the contract had red notes and highlighted lines and Daryl felt good about this, for the first time in a long time. Things didn't look as promising as he had hoped, but he was willing to concede some of the accounts if it meant he was no longer bound to this contract and none of his friends would be harassed.

The air was cool on his face as he and Rick left the office and went to where Rick had parked his car. They got in, Rick in the driver side and Daryl as a passenger, and merged into the mid-morning traffic, heading towards the office.

 _You never told me Negan called you,_ Rick signed after a moment.

Daryl shook his head. _I didn't want to talk about it,_ he said. _They didn't leave a message and I knew we had a meeting with Andrea, so I didn't think it was important._

_Still._

Daryl looked at him and saw Rick pressing his lips together, his eyes on the brake lights of the car in front of him. He reached out and put a hand on Rick's thigh, squeezing gently. _I'm sorry,_ he signed when Rick looked at him.

 _I'm worried about the personal conflict angle,_ Rick signed, after he had nodded and Daryl felt his forgiveness like a summer breeze, washing over his skin. _If Negan knows that you are I are… He might tell Blake._

_Blake's about to get arrested for embezzlement. I'm not worried about him._

_I am,_ Rick replied, his free hand going tight on the steering wheel as he turned a corner and pulled into the parking structure next to the office. Daryl pulled his hand away as they passed, not wanting to look too comfortable or forward to any prying eyes. _Embezzlement investigations take a long time, and who knows what Blake might do when the walls start closing in._

 _They can't fire you for fucking an employee,_ Daryl said, before he hesitated. _Can they?_

Rick shook his head. _Technically it's only an issue if it's a question of sexual harassment, as far as I know. Which…I don't believe I've harassed you, have I?_

Daryl smirked, catching Rick's cocky smile. _Definitely not_.

 _It's more of the fact that you're male,_ Rick signed as he parked, his expression going dark again. _Blake has made it no secret how much he hates gay people. I don't know about the rest of the board, but I can't imagine it would go over well there, either. So I'm worried about that._

 _Well, they_ definitely _can't fire you for being gay, either,_ Daryl signed, huffing a breath and rolling his eyes. _And we've both done good work here. Nothing for anyone to complain about. You said yourself the board loved my idea._

_And how much will they love it if we end up having to back out, because of this Negan thing?_

Daryl shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said, when Rick looked at him. "I'm sorry that I did this, that I got you into this whole mess."

_Daryl, I'd rather be in this mess with you than not in it at all._

Daryl smiled, his grin widening when Rick's cheeks turned pink. He leaned across the console, unable to resist putting his hand in Rick's hair and pulling him in for a quick kiss. He withdrew almost immediately and smiled at the quiet, pleading sound Rick let out when he did.

"We'll figure it out," he promised. "One way or another."

Rick smiled and nodded, before he opened his car door and got out and Daryl followed suit. As they entered the building they saw Morgan talking quietly to Jacqui. The man straightened and gave Daryl and Rick a polite smile.

"Mister Grimes, Mister Dixon. I was hoping I could have a word with each of you individually, when you're available?"

Rick and Daryl shared a look, before Daryl nodded. "I gotta get started on payroll, I'd be able to talk with you in the afternoon?" he suggested. Morgan accepted that with a smile and looked to Rick. Rick made a gesture for Morgan to lead the way and they both went to the elevators, up to the top floor to grab Michonne and then towards Morgan's office.

Daryl's head was reeling as he took a second elevator to his office. He got there just in time to see Rick, Michonne and Morgan step into another elevator to go down. He tried not to let any worry show on his face. But why would the H.R. guy want to talk to them? He could only think of one reason – someone had let slip that Daryl and Rick were together. Of course, only Michonne explicitly knew, but had Daryl done something to make it obvious? Had someone seen the marks on his neck and suspected it was from Rick, and reported them both? Had someone heard them that one time after lunch when Rick had cornered Daryl in his office and Daryl had gone to his knees for Rick?

"Fuck, fuck," he muttered, running his hands through his hair. He couldn't even talk to Michonne about it because she was playing translator. So, it wasn't something so private that Morgan would insist that they exchange written conversation or anything like that. Maybe it was about the embezzlement? Had Rick said that it was he and Daryl who had filed the report? Daryl had assumed it would go to the board, but surely after that it would go to someone external to the company?

His mind was racing and he felt sick with anxiety. He was unable to concentrate, so he got up and went to the roof to smoke a cigarette. It was quiet up here, the sounds of Atlanta traffic and city life a distant hum underneath the feel of the wind in his hair and the light brush of the sun as it touched his face. He lit his cigarette with shaky hands and took a deep drag.

His phone rang and he cursed, glaring at it when he saw it was Negan's office number calling him again. He answered. "Hello?"

"Mister Dixon?" It was Eugene. "This is Eugene Porter, I'm calling on behalf of Mister Negan. Do you have a few minutes?"

"Sure, what do you want?" Daryl asked, taking another drag of his cigarette. It burned his lungs and he winced at the harshness of the smoke hitting his throat.

"Mister Negan wanted me to check in on you and see how things were going," Eugene said, his monotone voice giving nothing away.

Daryl pressed his lips together. "Nothin' much to tell," he said.

"I suspected as much," Eugene replied. "But I had to check in. I'll be honest, Mister Dixon, Mister Negan isn't a patient man. He's expecting results."

"He can shove -," Daryl said, growling the words, but cut himself off before he could finish. It wouldn't do good to antagonize someone over the phone who still held a binding contract over his head, and Daryl didn't know – for all he knew Negan might be listening in. "Look, if Negan wants to talk to me he can call me his damn self. Have some self-respect, man." And then he hung up and put his phone on silent. He took another deep inhale from the cigarette and then let it fall, crushing the butt under his shoe.

He looked up as the door to the roof opened, revealing Glenn. He managed a sheepish smile, knowing Glenn never approved of him smoking, but the other man didn't seem to notice as he approached Daryl and gave him a smile in greeting. "Need somethin'?" Daryl asked.

"Nah. Maybe," Glenn replied, shrugging his shoulders, his hands in his pockets. "They've been interviewing people all day. Not me, but I think I might be next."

"Interviewing people?" Daryl repeated. "For what?"

"Not sure," Glenn replied with a shrug. "Was hoping you might know."

"Morgan, the H.R. guy, came to Rick when he and I got here. He's interviewing Rick and Michonne now, or talkin' to them. I'm goin' after lunch." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, it might be nothin', but it might be…somethin' else."

"Got any ideas?"

"Either it's to investigate somethin' Rick and I discovered, or it's because someone reported us." He looked to Glenn. "You didn't tell anyone, right? About me and Rick?"

"God, no," Glenn said, his eyes wide. "I wouldn't do that."

"I know. Had to ask."

"You think it might be about that?"

"Not sure. I mean, it's not illegal, right? Office romances happen all the time – as long as it ain't sexual harassment and we still do our jobs, I can't imagine they have any grounds to investigate it or do anythin'…bad."

"What's the other thing?" Glenn asked. "You said you and Rick discovered a thing…"

"Yeah," Daryl said, sighing heavily. "Not sure I should tell you, though. Not while it's still on the D.L.."

"Sure, I guess," Glenn said with a shake of his head. "I mean, I guess I'll just tell 'em what I know, which is literally nothing." He huffed a small laugh.

"I hate waitin'," Daryl complained. "I should have gone first."

"Well, I've leave you alone. Just wanted to check in."

"Thanks. You doing anything for lunch?"

"Maggie has a doctor's appointment so I'm going to that."

"Oh, cool. Give her my best."

"Will do."

 

 

"Mister Dixon, thank you for coming to see me. Please, sit."

Daryl sat on the other side of Morgan's desk. He hadn't managed to calm down any since arriving that morning. He had gotten payroll submitted and that really was most of his job done for the day, now that he didn't have to worry about presenting to the board or gathering up information against Blake. His job was threatening to become boring, and wouldn't that just be a twist.

"Mister Dixon -."

"Please, Daryl is just fine."

"Daryl, then," Morgan said with a kind smile, taking a seat of his own. "There's been some talk going around and it's my job to interview all personnel with the company to find the truth of these rumors, however strange they may be. There's strong evidence for it, but you must understand we have to proceed with these kinds of things…delicately."

Daryl bit his lip and willed himself not to say anything that would inadvertently give more away than he meant. "What kinda talk?" he asked instead.

Morgan regarded him for a moment, before he sighed and opened a file in front of him. It had Daryl's name on it. "You've been here less than three months, so I can't expect that you'll be too aware of the kinds of things I'm about to ask you, but I'd like you to tell me as much of the truth, and of what you know, as you can."

"Of course," Daryl said, feeling a prickling on the back of his neck, like someone was watching him. So maybe it wasn't about him and Rick. Maybe it was -.

"Recently it has come to light that there may have been some…inappropriate behavior from one of the board members," Morgan said evenly. Daryl felt his stomach tense up and sink. "You came here to take over our financial manager, correct?" Daryl nodded. "Have you noticed anything…strange…about the finances?"

Daryl blinked at him. "You mean has Blake been stealing hundreds of thousands of dollars from the company for the last year? Yeah, I noticed that."

Morgan blinked, and then scribbled something down quickly in the folder. "So you did find something unusual."

"Yeah. I'm the one who found it."

"Did anyone tell you to look for it?"

Daryl hesitated, clearing his throat. "Didn't need to," he said. He didn't want to incriminate Rick or throw his name in the hat. "The name 'Penny Rose' isn't from anyone on payroll. I know the kind of stuff to look for, and it fit the bill. I was told it's the names of Blake's daughter and mother, or something like that."

Morgan cocked his head to one side. "And who told you that?"

"I don't remember."

"Daryl, please don't lie to me."

"Does it matter who told me?" Daryl asked, sitting back in his chair. "It's true. He's been stealing money for months. I tracked it down to an offshore account in his name."

"You clearly are a man of many talents," Morgan said with a smile, writing down something else in Daryl's folder. "Did you tell anyone about your suspicions?"

Daryl swallowed hard enough his throat clicked. "Uh, when I was sure I had found somethin', I gave my findings to Rick. He's my boss, and I figured he'd know what to do from there. Not really sure how to file somethin' like that myself."

"And Rick had no prior knowledge of the embezzlement?"

"If he did, he kept it to himself," Daryl said.

Morgan regarded him for a long moment, like he knew Daryl was full of shit but wasn't sure enough to call him out on it. "Thank you, Mister Dixon," he said after another moment, his eyebrows raised, shaking his head once. "That'll be all for now. I'll let you know if I need to speak to you again."

"Thanks," Daryl said, pushing himself to his feet. He shook Morgan's hand and left his office, feeling jittery and off-kilter. That…had gone way better than he thought it might. And it hadn't been about him and Rick. So their secret was safe.

So many secrets in the corporate world. So many plots and schemes. It was a wonder these people had time to live at all.

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kinda short but there's plot too! And porn, of course.

Daryl was already home when Rick arrived. He heard the man's car pulling up and looked up as the door opened. As soon as it shut behind him, Rick let out a loud whoop of victory, pumping the air with one arm. It was a loud enough sound to make Daryl jump, and he laughed, coming out of the kitchen so that Rick could see him.

Rick grinned at him, taking off his shoes and setting his briefcase down as he approached Daryl. His smile was wide, his cheeks pink and hair all in disarray like he'd been driving with the windows down. He loosened his tie and reached for Daryl, pulling him close and planting him against the wall where the stairs led up to the second floor, and kissed him passionately.

Daryl hummed, hands resting lightly on Rick's shoulders as Rick kissed him. When he pulled back, Rick's eyes were bright and it felt like he was practically buzzing with anticipation.

Daryl grinned at him. "Good day?"

Rick nodded. _They're going to file criminal charges against Blake,_ he signed. Daryl's eyes went wide. So soon… _The Board conducted interviews on everyone and with what you found, they've suspended him and are even talking about voting him off pending the trial._

"Holy shit," Daryl said when Rick stopped signing. Rick grinned again, humming in agreement, and leaned in to steal another deep kiss from Daryl.

Rick's hands were greedy, holding Daryl tightly by the waist and forcing him to stay still as Rick kissed him and rutted against him, a soft growl falling from him when Daryl gasped and opened his mouth to allow Rick's tongue inside. He let out a quiet moan, able to feel how turned on Rick was. The energy was like a taste on his tongue and Daryl drank it down greedily.

Rick pulled back, breathing hard. "I feel like I could kill a dragon," he said.

Daryl smiled. "Why don't you just fuck me instead?"

Rick's smile turned wicked. _Excellent idea. Stay here._

Daryl blinked, but obeyed as Rick pulled away from him and went upstairs. He was breathing hard, Rick's obvious arousal enough to get his heart beating fast and his body ready to fuck. He heard Rick go to their bedroom for a moment, before he returned, his feet making little noise on the carpet as he came back down the stairs. He had shed his tie and suit jacket, and held the bottle of lube in his hand.

 _If you need me to stop, knock on the wall,_ Rick signed, and Daryl nodded, biting his lower lip in anticipation. _Turn around._

Daryl obeyed, pressing his hands flat against the wall as Rick plastered himself against Daryl's back, rumbling softly in his throat as he rutted his clothed cock against Daryl's ass and his free hand went tight in Daryl's shirt.

He reached forward and tapped the lube bottle against of one Daryl's arms and Daryl nodded, shifting his weight to hold the bottle while Rick's hands turned their attention elsewhere. He tugged Daryl's shirt up to expose his lower back, and then his hands went to Daryl's sweatpants and pushed them down in one motion.

Daryl hissed when Rick leaned down, his hands wrapped tightly around Daryl's hipbones, and he bit down lightly at the flesh of Daryl's ass. Daryl jerked, breathing hard through his teeth as Rick did it again, trapping the skin for the briefest second in a stinging bite before letting go. His thumbs were hooked under Daryl's ass, forcing him to lift onto the balls of his feet and spread his legs to maintain his balance.

His fingers curled against the wall but he made sure he didn't make a fist, so that Rick wouldn't think he needed to stop. Rick growled and raised his head, pulling Daryl's ass apart and spitting onto his hole. Then he knelt down behind Daryl and started to push his thumb inside, using his spit to ease the way, and with his other hand he reached between Daryl's thighs and wrapped his fingers tight around Daryl's cock.

" _Fuck_ ," Daryl growled, tossing his head back and letting out a heavy breath when Rick sank his thumb inside. It wasn't enough, the tease of pressure at that deeper place that Daryl needed Rick to go. He let out a plaintive whine and ducked his head, shoving the top of it against the wall and pushing back onto Rick's hand.

Rick hummed, twisting his hand around Daryl's cockhead. Daryl could feel his mouth on his thighs, sucking dark marks to the sensitive underside of them. He was starting to shake, his legs trembling at holding such a taxing position for this long. But he was determined to hold out, and let Rick use him however he saw fit.

Rick pushed himself to his feet and let go of Daryl's cock, reaching forward for the lube bottle which Daryl gave him. Rick pulled his other hand away to open the bottle and drizzle some lube onto his fingers, before he stepped away and set it down.

Then, he paused. "Daryl," he said, prompting Daryl to turn and regard him. Rick's eyes flashed to the kitchen island, then back to Daryl's exposed flesh. He bit his lip.

Daryl smirked and straightened up. _Wanna fuck me on that?_ he asked, gesturing to the counter.

Rick's eyes flashed, and he nodded. Daryl grinned, stepping out of his sweatpants and pulling his shirt over his head. He dropped it to the floor with the rest of his clothing and went into the kitchen. _Bent over it, or…?_

Rick shook his head. "On your back," he said, and Daryl eyed the counter for another minute. It was about half a foot below waist-height, and just wide enough that Daryl could fit most of his body on it. He climbed up onto the counter, wincing at the cold granite that met his exposed flesh, and spread his legs for Rick to step between them, pulling him into a kiss.

Rick bit his lower lip and tugged, making Daryl whine. He pulled back and used his slick hands to spread Daryl's legs a little wider. Daryl leaned back, braced on his elbows and exposing himself to Rick's greedy gaze.

 _I've thought about this more times than I can count,_ he signed. Daryl shivered and wondered just how many that was. How often did Rick look at this perfect-for-fucking-height counter and picture bending Daryl over it, or fucking him just like this, or spreading himself out on it while Daryl fucked him?

Rick's fingers teased his hole and Daryl shivered, propping one leg up with his heel against the surface to give Rick more room. He laid down fully, the back of his skull just past the ledge, and closed his eyes when Rick sank his first finger inside. He reached down to lazily stroke his cock, sighing at the feeling of Rick's finger pushing in and curling up.

"Mm, _fuck_ ," he gasped, putting his free hand to his neck and letting it rest there as Rick gently massaged his balls, thumb rubbing just behind him where that sensitive spot was. Daryl's ass clenched up, his cock twitching in his hand as Rick touched him. "God, Rick, just like that."

Rick hummed, leaning down and kissing Daryl's chest. Daryl opened his eyes and lifted his head so he could watch Rick. Rick smiled at him, this adoring thing, and then a second finger started to push inside and Daryl moaned, letting his head fall again.

Rick let go of his thigh, his fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt so he could pull it loose and let the halves fall to either side. Then he undid his belt, pulling the thing free from his slacks and letting it fall. Finally, he unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks and pulled his cock out, letting gravity take care of moving the clothes away from it as he stroked it in his messy, slick hand.

Daryl whined when Rick worked in a third finger. It was starting to burn, but Daryl was ready – he was _so ready_. He arched up as best he could and Rick pulled his fingers out and grabbed his hips, forcing him to the end of the counter and Daryl lifted his legs, putting them on Rick's shoulders.

Rick took a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes on Daryl as he positioned his cock at Daryl's hole. Daryl bit his lip and nodded, frantically, and Rick closed his eyes and turned his head to one side to bite at Daryl's calf as he started to push in. The angle was new, their change in heights meaning his cock rubbed all the way up Daryl's insides and across his prostate immediately. He moaned, gut clenching at the feeling.

Then, Rick's big hands found their place on Daryl's thighs and he starts to thrust. They were hard and deep and Daryl moaned with each one, writhing as much as he was able and crying out every time Rick fucked deeply into him and touched that spot inside that felt _so fucking good_.

Rick pushed on his thighs, forcing him to curl up but like this he couldn't get Rick closer to him, he couldn't lift his head to claim one of Rick's desperate, passionate kisses. Rick seemed to agree with this, and found it equally unacceptable.

He pulled out of Daryl and Daryl moaned with loss, only for the sound to turn into a gasp when Rick yanked him off of the counter and onto his shaky legs. He almost fell but Rick caught him, and turned and kissed him. He coaxed Daryl onto his knees and then knelt over him, pushing him onto his back and as soon as Daryl got with the program he spread his legs and wrapped them around Rick's waist, allowing Rick back inside.

His moan was swallowed by Rick's mouth and Rick let out an answering rumble. Like this the angle wasn't quite the same but it was still good, and Daryl went back to stroking his cock as Rick dug his hands behind Daryl's knees and fucked into him with bruising force.

"God, Rick, fuck me," Daryl begged, fisting his free hand in Rick's hair and tugging like he knew Rick liked. Rick growled against his mouth in answer, face twisted up in pleasure as he continued to move. He was barely touching the ground, using Daryl's body as a point of leverage and a place to brace himself against.

Rick moaned and kissed him again, his thrusts starting to slow. He pressed his sweaty forehead against Daryl's and breathed out, shuddering. "'M gonna come," he whispered, voice hoarse.

Daryl bit his lip and squeezed his legs around Rick's waist. "Do it," he urged, and Rick looked at him for another moment before he leaned down for another kiss which Daryl eagerly met, groaning quietly as Rick started his harsh rhythm up again.

Rick's breathing went ragged and his hands turned unbearably tight on Daryl's thighs. He braced his knees on the floor and reared back, holding Daryl still as he fucked in again, again, once more – and then he started to come but he wasn't all the way inside. He pulled back until just the head of his cock was inside Daryl, stretching him at the widest point, and then he pulled all the way out, his come spurting hot and thick over Daryl's thighs and ass, his balls and his cock.

It was as possessive as it was hot. Daryl closed his eyes, trembling at the feeling of Rick so thoroughly marking him. Rick was breathing heavily and Daryl opened his eyes and let out a plaintive sound.

"Put it back in," Daryl begged, not even sure why he asked it. He just wasn't ready to lose Rick so soon. Rick bit his lower lip and nodded, letting go of one of Daryl's legs to grab his cock and force it back inside.

Daryl sighed, leaning up for a kiss when Rick bent over him again. So soon after his orgasm, Rick was still hard and Daryl let the feeling of Rick inside of him wash over him. He stroked his cock tightly, urging his body up higher and higher up that cliff until he was ready to jump off.

Rick kissed him and put a hand at his throat, squeezing gently. Daryl gasped, hips working frantically over Rick's cock as he chased the feeling. Rick growled and leaned down, opening his mouth wide and sinking his teeth into the skin just below the collarbone and started to suck a dark mark there.

"Fuck," Daryl growled, gritting his teeth. He was so fucking close, he needed… _something_ …

"Daryl, please," Rick whispered, his voice cutting through the silence and kickstarting Daryl's heart. "Please, come for me."

Daryl whimpered, and Rick leaned back and fucked in slowly, getting as deep inside of Daryl as he could. He pulled back and fucked in again and Daryl gasped, feeling that sinking feeling in his gut unwind and stretch. He growled and tightened his fist around his cock and Rick squeezed his throat, pushing in one more time. Daryl felt himself bearing down, a harsh cry escaping him, his hand going still as he shuddered and came over his stomach and chest. Rick smiled, leaning down to kiss his slack mouth, and pulled out of him again.

"Fuck, I hope you have days like this every day."

Rick laughed, helping Daryl sit upright. He pulled his shirt off and gave it to Daryl to wear so that he wouldn't freeze his ass off. _And it's all because of you,_ he said. Daryl blushed, ducking his gaze. _I mean it, Daryl. I wouldn't have been able to do this without you. I owe you everything._

"Stop," Daryl said, his blush darkening. Rick was looking at him like he'd hung the moon. He smiled and leaned in to kiss Rick, chastely, before they both stood. "So what happens now?"

 _I imagine they'll vote in another acting CEO during the investigation,_ Rick said as Daryl went back to grab his clothing and put it on. There was a stain on the floor and Daryl knew his clothes were destined straight for the laundry. _Then, if he's found guilty, I suppose that position will remain permanent. As of right now he has no title, and his assets will have been frozen except for the foreign account._

"Which he'll probably use to post his bail," Daryl muttered.

Rick sighed. _Probably, yes._

"That sucks," Daryl said. "But if it gets him gone, it's a win for me."

 _I agree,_ Rick said, smiling. _And as soon as he's gone, and Negan's contract is taken care of, we'll be free._

"Do you think Blake will tell the board about us?"

Rick shrugged, looking solemn. _Most likely._

_And that doesn't bother you?_

_Should it?_ Rick cocked his head to one side, frowning. _Tell me what you're thinking._

"I just don't want to jeopardize anythin'. You should be the next CEO. What if the Board finds out you're fuckin' me and decides not to vote you in 'cause'a that?"

Rick shakes his head with another helpless shrug. _Honestly, Daryl, then it is what it is. Being CEO isn't a big dream for me. One day it might be nice, but honestly I'd rather just have Blake gone. Anyone that they vote in as a replacement would be better than him._

"I get it," Daryl said, before he sighed. "Sorry. Didn't mean to fuck up your good mood."

 _You didn't,_ Rick replied with a kind smile. He stepped forward and kissed Daryl again, lightly but no less passionate. _Come to bed with me._

Daryl raised an eyebrow. _It's only eight._

 _I didn't say 'sleep',_ Rick replied with a mischievous grin. Daryl blinked and his eyes widened, breath catching in his throat as he understood what Rick meant.

"Well, shit, yeah. Lead the way." Rick laughed and kissed him again, tugging on Daryl's wrist and leading him upstairs. By the end of the night, the sheets and duvet cover had to be added to the pile of laundry in the corner.


	26. Chapter 26

Daryl woke to a call from Andrea. He sat up in bed, carefully disentangling himself from Rick, and answered with a clear of his throat. "Mornin'," he greeted, rubbing at his eyes. Next to him, Rick stirred, woken by Daryl's movement and the sudden lack of warmth. He opened his eyes and Daryl gestured to his phone and mouthed 'Andrea', and Rick nodded. He sat up as well and Daryl resisted the urge to put the phone on speaker, knowing it wouldn't do any good.

"Good morning, Mister Dixon," Andrea said. "I spoke with Negan yesterday afternoon. He's agreed to fly down here for a negotiation meeting."

Daryl frowned, going tense. He didn't want to be in the same room with that asshole ever again. "When?" he asked.

"This afternoon. I'll be picking him up from the airport when his flight gets in, and I've scheduled the meeting for three P.M. Will you and Mister Grimes be able to make that?"

"Should be fine," Daryl said, eyes flashing to Rick. "Andrea wants us to meet Negan at three. Says he's flying in for the meeting. We can make that, right?"

Rick nodded, his eyes flashing in displeasure, and Daryl bit his lip and nodded back. "Yeah, we can make that," he said. "Should we bring anything?"

"Just an open mind," Andrea replied crisply. "I'm sure it'll be a short meeting."

"Alright. See you at three," he said.

"Excellent, I'll see you at my office. Have a good morning."

Daryl bid her goodbye and hung up, sighing heavily. Rick kissed his bare shoulder and Daryl turned his head so Rick could see his mouth moving. "I don't wanna do this," he said.

Rick hummed. _Which part?_

"I don't want to be in a room with him," Daryl said. "I feel like he's gonna do something, or say somethin', and it's just…I've never been able to feel comfortable around him. It's like sitting down with a shark."

Rick huffed a soft laugh. _I can be a shark, too,_ he signed. _I'm not afraid._

"I am," Daryl confessed. His head was starting to hurt so he laid back down and pulled Rick into the same position so they were facing each other. The clock on Rick's bedside table told him they had a few minutes before they had to get ready for work. "I just…don't wanna go into this blind, or do somethin' stupid. He's the fuckin' Devil. He's gonna make us do something bad, I just know it."

 _We'll handle it,_ Rick signed, before he took one of Daryl's hands and lifted it to his lips, kissing Daryl's knuckles gently. Daryl sighed and closed his eyes, opening them again when Rick leaned in and kissed him chastely. _Think about it like this; we'll finally be free when it's over._

"I know," Daryl replied. "I hate that we're in this position in the first place. If I hadn't…"

 _You did what you thought had to be done,_ Rick replied. _And it was stupid, but now you're smarter, and I'm smarter, and we can beat Negan. He doesn't have anything on us aside from our relationship – if he even knows about that – and the only person who could really hurt me with that is dealt with. There's no real consequence I'm not prepared to face._

Daryl sighed. "You have a lotta faith in me," he said.

 _I have faith in_ us, Rick replied, gesturing between their chests. Daryl smiled, his cheeks going pink. Rick seemed to hesitate for a moment, before he sighed.

 _What is it?_ Daryl asked. He could tell Rick wanted to say something, but he was holding himself back – why? Hadn't they agreed that they wouldn't stop each other from saying what they were thinking, from keeping his dialogue between them open and honest?

Rick opened his mouth, but then his phone vibrated fiercely and the light on the front flashed, telling him he'd gotten a text. He held up a finger and turned to grab his phone, swiping it open. His eyes widened.

 _Lori's gone into labor,_ he signed, and Daryl's eyes widened and he sat up. Rick looked at him, shocked and pleased all at once. _Shane just told me. They're at the hospital now._

"We gotta go see them," Daryl said, and Rick nodded. They scrambled out of bed and showered and dressed quickly, and then they got into Rick's car and he started to speed towards the hospital.

Rick handed Daryl his phone when they were a few blocks out. "Tell Michonne where we are," he said, and Daryl nodded. Rick said Michonne's name differently than Daryl did. He said the 'o' part of her name differently. Daryl smiled, thinking about Michonne teaching him how to pronounce it, if he ever forgot or if she just had gotten him to that point and deemed it good enough.

Daryl had never been a big fan of hospitals. They were big and confusing in layout, and loud and, of course, full of sick people. The few times his dad had sent him there after a rough night were countless, and Daryl had hated lying to the nurses and doctors, saying he'd fallen in the woods, or tripped on a stray wire, or whatever other bullshit he could come up with at the time.

He followed Rick inside and went to the welcome station, and got directions to the maternity ward. It was in another part of the building, down long, lackluster hallways. There was a pink line on the floor to help direct her way.

They made it to the waiting room in the maternity ward and Rick spied Shane, crossing over to him immediately. Shane stood, grinning widely. He looked tired, but hugged Rick tightly when Rick approached him. He nodded to Daryl and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"How long you guys been here?" Daryl asked, sitting down with Rick between him and Shane. Carl wasn't present, Daryl figured he was in school.

"About an hour now," Shane replied, shaking his head. "She wasn't dilated enough when we brought her in. But they sent me out here about ten minutes ago, said she'd need surgery."

Rick nodded. _After one c-section, they don't allow natural births_ , he signed, and Daryl didn't know most of those words but he could guess from the gestures what Rick meant.

Shane went pale. "Christ," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his mouth. He shook his head. "So that's why they kicked me out. I want to be in there with her." His eyes flashed to the double doors leading to the actual rooms and beds where expectant and new mothers were.

Rick put a hand on his friend's shoulder. _You already did this once_ , he said with a soft smile. Shane nodded.

"And it ain't any easier the second time around," he muttered. "I know Lori's strong, she'll be fine. I just…hate the thought of not bein' near her."

Rick's eyes flashed to Daryl. _I know the feeling._

The doors opened and a nurse stepped out. "Mister Walsh?" she called, and Shane stood and went over to her. "They've taken her into surgery. She should be out within the next hour or so."

Shane blew out a breath. "Thanks for the update," he said, and the nurse smiled at him and left. Shane went back to Rick and Daryl. "They say it should be about another hour."

"We should get breakfast, or somethin'," Daryl suggested.

Shane shook his head. "I ain't leavin' this spot."

Daryl nodded. "I'll go get us some coffee, then," he said, and stood.

 _I'll come with_ , Rick offered, standing as well, and Daryl smiled and they left Shane to go to the cafeteria, which was a floor below and down another hallway. _Do you think the baby will have Shane or Lori's eyes?_

Daryl huffed a laugh. "They've both got brown," he said.

 _And you and I both have blue, but they're different,_ Rick replied, nudging Daryl playfully as they got in line before the coffee shop addon in the cafeteria.

Daryl smirked. _You ever thought about having kids?_ he signed. Rick blinked at him. _Like…adopting your own? Or something?_

Rick seemed to think about it for a moment, before he shook his head. _I've never really given it much thought, no,_ he replied. _But then again, I've never been with someone I would want to have a family with. And I already have Carl – and soon I'll be an Uncle too._ His eyes darted to Daryl, then away. _But one day…maybe._

"Morning!" greeted the clerk. "What can I get for you?"

"What coffee does Shane like?" Daryl asked.

Rick smiled. _Black. Strong._

Daryl rolled his eyes and ordered their coffees, and then they moved away and stood to wait for them. Rick made a low sound, drawing Daryl's attention.

 _How about you?_ he asked. _You ever want kids?_

Daryl shrugged, but nodded. _Wanted 'em since as long as I could remember,_ he replied, and Rick blinked at him as though surprised. _I like kids. I wanna raise a couple little asskickers of my own one day._

Rick smiled, this soft and adoring thing. He reached his hand out to curl his fingers in Daryl's and squeezed gently, before he let go. Daryl blushed and bit his lower lip, and then their coffees came and they headed back up to the maternity ward.

Rick handed Shane his coffee and they all took their seats again, settling down to wait. Shane took a long drink of his and sighed. "So, what's new on the home front?" he asked them.

Rick shrugged. _Blake's been fired,_ he signed. _Got voted off the board the other day._

"Shit, that's awesome!" Shane said. "'Cause'a the money?"

Daryl nodded. "Between what you helped me find and the interviews they conducted, I guess they had enough evidence to file criminal charges against him."

"Sweet," Shane said, grinning.

They fell silent for another moment. "You and Lori know what you're gonna name the baby? You know what you're having?"

"Lori thinks it's a girl, but we never found out for certain," Shane replied. He cleared his throat and looked at Rick. "Carl likes the name Judith. It was one of his favorite teacher's names or something. And we were thinking…Richard. Rick. If it's a boy."

Rick's eyes went wide, visibly touched. He set his coffee cup between his knees so he could sign; _You don't have to do that._

Shane grinned. "I want to," he said. Rick's eyes went bright with tears and he nodded, smiling widely.

 _I'm honored_ , he said.

Shane winked at him and they settled down in silence again to wait. It felt like the whole day passed before the nurse came back out and walked over to the three of them. She was smiling. "Mister Walsh?" she said. "They're ready."

Shane leapt to his feet and Rick and Daryl followed suit. They had to leave their coffees so they discarded them in one of the trash cans and followed the nurse through the doors and down the hallway where the private rooms were. She led them to one on the right and gestured for Shane to enter.

They all did, piling into the small room. Lori was laying down, turned towards the small manger next to her. It was clear and there was a little bundle of pink and white blankets inside. A girl.

She lifted her head and smiled tiredly at Shane, reaching up to meet him for a kiss. "There's my girl," he said, petting through her sweaty hair. "How you feelin', sweetheart?"

"Like a million bucks," Lori replied, causing Shane to laugh. Then she jerked her head towards the baby. "Come on, daddy, come meet your daughter."

Shane's eyes widened and he circled the bed, and the open adoration on his face when he looked down at the baby felt almost too intimate to watch. Daryl looked at Rick instead and found him watching the baby as well, he could tell Rick was already in love with her.

Shane picked her up carefully, cradling her head. Only her face was exposed, her eyes still the bright blue all newborns had, and he grinned when she burbled at him and made a spit bubble. "Hey, angel," he murmured, rubbing his finger gently over her chubby cheek.

Rick huffed a laugh. _She looks like you,_ he said, nodding to Shane.

"Yeah, hopefully that wears off," Lori said with a roll of her eyes. Shane sent her a half-hearted glare, but it was ruined by his smile. "Guess she gets 'Judith', then."

"I like that name," Daryl said, and Lori smiled at him. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing gently.

"Glad you both could make it," she said.

"Someone's gotta remember these lovestruck morons to give them shit about later," Daryl replied, earning a laugh from Lori. Her eyelids were drooping, she was clearly tired, and Daryl let her hand go.

Rick shook his head. _We'll leave you two alone,_ he signed. _Congratulations._

"Thanks, Rick," Lori said, and Rick came forward to give her a kiss on the cheek, before he and Daryl left the room.

Rick nudged him. _Hope you didn't get too broody from that._

Daryl frowned, not knowing the word. _'Broody'?_ he signed back, then; _I don't understand_.

Rick cocked his head to one side, and then spelled out the word for him. Daryl glared at him, cheeks darkening from pink to red, and he shoved Rick playfully as they walked back to the main part of the hospital and towards the exit.

"You were the one talkin' about kids," Daryl muttered.

 _You brought it up first_.

"Alright, _fine_ ," Daryl said with a roll of his eyes. "Is this 'cause'a the 'morons' comment? 'Cause I was _kidding_."

Rick huffed a laugh, and then stopped as they approached the car. He reached out and turned Daryl and pressed him against it, kissing him chastely. _I'm not trying to make fun of you,_ he signed. _You're family. You deserved to be in that room as much as I did._

Daryl shook his head. "That ain't true," he said.

 _To me, it is_ , Rick replied. _And I love that you want kids. Really. I'm not joking._

Daryl sucked in a breath, trembling when Rick kissed him again. "Yeah?" he asked weakly, unsure of what else to say. Rick was the first man he'd been with that Daryl would even _entertain_ the thought of having a family with, let alone talk about it. Which was insane, because they hadn't been together nearly as long as Daryl would think appropriate for conversations like that. Then again, straight people had kids after the third week and lived happily ever after sometimes. It _could_ happen.

Rick nodded, smiling widely. _I wish…sometimes I wish I could have them. The natural way. But not with a woman, of course._ He rolled his eyes and shook his head, expression sheepish. He pulled back from Daryl and Daryl caught him by the hands.

"Don't stop yourself," he said, reminded of when they'd been on Rick's couch after their fight about the contract. This was what they'd _promised_ each other. "Tell me."

Rick bit his lower lip. _I'm sorry,_ he signed. _It's just…sometimes I feel like I'm rushing, like my head is years ahead of the reality. I feel like I've been with you for years and then I want to say things and I have to remind myself we haven't been together that long._

"It ain't rushin' if we both want it," Daryl said, reaching out to touch Rick's chest. Rick's heart was flying, and heavy under Daryl's hand. He was nervous. Again, Daryl was reminded of the first time Rick fucked him. _It ain't rushin' if we both want it._

 _I want…a family with you,_ Rick signed. _And sometimes I think, if one of us was a woman or if men could, I'd have knocked you up already, or you've have gotten me pregnant, and I…_ like _that idea._ He was blushing, clearly freaking out over having confessed that.

Daryl smiled and kissed him. "Don't work that way, unfortunately," he said.

Rick nodded. "I know."

"But I'm more'n willin' to keep fuckin'. For science."

Rick laughed. _You're so fucking cute,_ he signed, and Daryl grinned.

"And if it's any consolation, the feelin's mutual," Daryl said. "About the…years ahead thing. I feel like I've known you a really long time. Hell, I guess we kinda have – we've been in business together for years."

 _Yeah, but I'm pretty sure you hated me back then,_ Rick said with a grin. _Your emails were always very…brash._

Daryl raised his eyebrows. _And here I thought I was being polite._

 _I think that's one of the reasons I liked you so much,_ Rick said. _You never sugar-coated the truth and you never tried to humor me. You weren't just a 'Yes' man._

"Yeah, I think you have a thing for pains in the ass," Daryl muttered, making Rick laugh again. "I'm starvin'. Early lunch?"

"Sure," Rick replied, and let Daryl go so that they could get in the car.

 

 

 

Daryl didn't want to do this. He didn't want to sit down in a room with Negan, and see the man's shit-eating grin, or hear his voice. He didn't want the man's energy on his skin, making him feel like ants were crawling up his spine. He didn't want to _talk_ , he just wanted to fucking get it the fuck over with and wash his hands of the whole thing.

When Rick and Daryl arrived at Andrea's office, her assistant led them up and they entered a conference room much like the one Negan had in his own office. Andrea, Jim, and Negan were all there. Negan sat on one side, his back to the windows, and Andrea and Jim were at the head of the table. There were two chairs with places and a bottled water in front of each, opposite of Negan, and Rick and Daryl took their seats.

Daryl bit his lip. _Should have brought Michonne,_ he signed.

Rick smiled at him. _I'm sure you can translate for me_ , he said.

"Rick! Daryl! So good to see you guys. You're looking well." Negan grinned at Daryl and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the conference table, his fingers laced. "Georgia suits you."

"Negan," Daryl greeted curtly, and Rick gave a nod of greeting as well, before they turned their attention to Andrea and Jim.

She smiled, expression tight. She was in full lawyer mode. "Gentlemen, thank you all for agreeing to meet. I want to start by saying that there is an implicit non-disclosure over the proceedings here, and I ask you all to agree that nothing discussed in this room will leave it unless both parties give explicit consent."

"Sure," Negan said with a shark-like smile, leaning back in his chair. He looked like the fat cat that swallowed the canary.

Rick nodded as well, and Daryl pressed his lips together. "Yeah," he said. "I agree."

"Alright. Excellent. So, Mister…?"

"Negan's just fine."

"Alright. Negan. Mister Dixon and Mister Grimes first approached me with this contract. They wish to nullify it completely on the terms that the contract was breached with the termination of your other employees."

"Yeah, we covered all this on the phone," Negan said with an impatient wave of his hand. "You wanna talk negotiations? Fine. Keep the accounts with me and we have no problem."

Daryl glared at him. "That ain't an option," he hissed. "Rick wants to leave. No termination fee, no breach of contract. We should be allowed to leave if we want."

"You forget, Daryl, you're still on _my_ payroll too, which means you have to keep _my_ best interests at heart too."

"You fired me," Daryl growled. "It doesn't count anymore."

"And where, exactly, is your resignation letter, hmm? The notice? Still getting checks cashed in your account, ain'tcha?"

Negan grinned widely at him. Daryl could feel Rick's eyes on the side of his face. The contract had said he was still in Negan's service, of course, and Rick must know that meant Daryl was getting money from the man, but Daryl hadn't _explicitly_ told him that. He dared not meet Rick's eyes.

"So let me get this straight," Jim said. "You were paying Daryl…to _spy_ on Rick's company?"

"That's what I said, ain't it?" Negan demanded.

"No, you were payin' me to spy on _Rick_ ," Daryl replied harshly. "Just him. Just to get dirt on him so you could blackmail him into stayin'. And I'm sayin' I won't do it."

Negan's eyes flashed. "I can sue you for services not rendered, boy. Don't test me."

Daryl went tense and Rick held out a hand, getting Daryl's attention. Rick's expression was stony and angry, his hands moved quickly as though trying to rush.

_Don't repeat this. I want him to talk. Anything he says can be used against him._

Daryl pressed his lips together and nodded. _What do you want me to do?_

_Ask him about the accounts. Pretend you're willing to stay. I want to see what he'll do._

Daryl nodded again. "Look," Daryl said, sighing. "I let down my end. I understand that. We're willin' to keep _some_ of the accounts with you. The ones that won't go global. But I don't want this contract anymore. I'm not going to tell you _anything_ about Rick, or the company, or anythin' else we're doing."

"Mm, yes, and I bet you're doing a _lot_ ," Negan said, grinning widely. His eyes flashed to Rick, then back to Daryl. "Tell me, Daryl, how long did it take for Rick to start fucking you?"

Daryl swallowed hard enough that his throat clicked. "Ain't any of your business who _either_ of us are fuckin', thank you very much. And even if we were, I wouldn't tell you."

Negan smirked. "So, you're willing to keep the home accounts with me?" he asked, and Daryl nodded. "How many is that, exactly?"

Daryl looked to Rick. _Tell him two hundred._

"Two hundred," Daryl repeated. Negan's eyes flashed.

"That's…acceptable," he finally conceded.

Andrea straightened up. "So you'll nullify the whole contract between you and Mister Dixon? If the local accounts stay with you?"

"Yes, and based on the premise that neither company will slander the other out of any references."

Andrea nodded. "I will need a minute to discuss this with my client," she said. "If you wouldn't mind waiting outside."

"Sure," Negan said with a grin. He stood and Jim stood with him, and escorted him out.

Once he was gone, Rick sighed and shook his head. _Two hundred accounts_ , he signed.

"That's fifty-one grand a year forfeit," Daryl told him.

Rick nodded. _That's better than the other number,_ he said. _And it gets us out of this. I'm willing to sign that._

_The Board won't like it._

_We just saved the company God knows how much from Blake's embezzlement. They'll forgive it, if they even noticed._ Daryl nodded and looked to Andrea. _Also, I want you off his payroll. I want it explicitly stated that beyond those accounts there will be no affiliation between our companies, and I want a guarantee that he will not terminate any more employees on bullshit grounds._

Daryl blinked at him. _You don't have to do that._

 _I want to,_ Rick replied, his eyes flashing. _A man like that doesn't deserve the power he has._

Daryl nodded. "Alright," he said, and looked to Andrea again. "Rick wants me off the payroll, no connection between our company and his, and we'll keep the two hundred accounts with them. And he wants a clause that means Negan can't fire anyone else on unreasonable grounds."

Andrea nodded. "I can have that contract drawn up today. I'll call you when it's ready to be looked over and signed."

They called Negan back into the room and went over the terms with him. Negan was clearly unhappy about the termination clause, but he agreed to it. All the time, Daryl felt like Negan had still won. He had kept most of Rick's accounts, which meant only profit for him.

"I'll expect the closure forms for the other hundred in my email," Daryl warned. "As soon as I go over with Rick which ones they are."

"Excellent," Negan said, grinning so wide it showed his teeth. "Well, boys, a pleasure as always. I'm sure we'll speak again."

 _I hope not_ , Rick signed, and Daryl had to hide his smirk behind his hand.

The ride back to the office was silent. Daryl felt on edge, but strangely relieved. He was…finally free. And it had cost him most of the accounts but if Rick was okay with it, then Daryl was okay with it. They could still develop their Point of Sale on the side, and break into Canada, and then Europe, and who knew where else. The world was literally limitless at this point and Daryl felt like he could finally _breathe_.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And herein lies the last chapter of Greener Pastures. Thank you to everyone who left feedback, comments, and kudos on this fic. Considering it was just me wanting to rant about my job, it really grew to something amazing and that I've loved writing. Like Daryl, my work environment has changed a lot and who knows, maybe I'll find a Rick of my own.
> 
> Have a great night everyone!

"Mister Dixon, I just received the signed copy of the new contract from Negan's office. As soon as you and Mister Grimes sign it, we'll be all set."

Daryl nodded, taking the folder as Andrea slid it across the table to him and Rick. They had taken such a painstaking amount of time detailing the relationship with the two hundred accounts that Negan would still handle, it all felt so surreal to see Negan's large, obnoxious signature and initials on each page. Daryl slid it over to Rick first so that he could sign it.

" _Thank you_ ," he said to Andrea when it was done and she handed them their personal copies. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Andrea smiled. "Keep me in mind when and if you decide to do anything stupid again," she said, and Daryl smiled at her. They all stood and shook hands and then Daryl followed Rick out of Andrea's office and out into the street.

The air felt different. Daryl took in a deep breath and it tasted of freedom, no matter how ridiculous that sounded. He turned to Rick and smiled, and took his hand in a brief squeeze.

Rick smiled back at him. _How do you feel?_

_Aside from losing the two hundred accounts, pretty damn good._

Rick shook his head and they both started walking towards the car. _I care less about that. I feel like we're finally free. It's a good feeling._

"So what happens now?" Daryl asked. After all, there was still the matter of the Board voting in the acting CEO. Rick deserved that position, of that Daryl had no doubt, but there was still a chance that the Board would find out about them, or Blake would tell them his suspicions and it would jeopardize Rick's chance and getting the spot.

Rick shrugged. _I suppose we keep on going. After development of our Point of Sale, we can start to really expand. It's something I've wanted for the company for years now, and it's finally happening._ He looked at Daryl. _I couldn't have done it without you. You made this – all of this – possible._

Daryl blushed, smiling down at the sidewalk. He was sure, at some point in the future, some bright-eyed tech intern would have suggested it and tried to make it possible, but Rick's praise warmed him all the same.

They had gone to Andrea's office after work, so the only destination now was home. They got in the car and Rick drove them. It was slow going, Atlanta's rush hour traffic wasn't kind, but Daryl felt almost high off of the fact that he was _free_. He no longer had to fear Negan, or Blake. No one had the ability to fuck this up for them except Rick and Daryl themselves, and Daryl was determined not to do that again. Being with Rick was easy, and fun, and Daryl liked him more than he had ever liked anyone before.

They got out of the car and Daryl caught Rick's arm on their way inside. "Hey, I'm gonna go back out real quick. Should be home in an hour."

Rick nodded. _Alright. Be safe._

Daryl smiled and pulled Rick in for a quick, chaste kiss, before he grabbed his keys and mounted his bike. He didn't miss the appreciative look Rick sent his way as he got comfortable on the vehicle and turned it on. Daryl winked at him and pulled out of Rick's driveway and back into the road.

He drove to the hotel he'd first stayed at, pleased to see Bob standing outside. "My friend Daryl!" Bob greeted warmly, as Daryl walked up to him and gave him a low-five slap of greeting. "How have you been?"

"Awesome," Daryl said. Bob grinned at him.

"Excellent! When we last spoke you didn't look so good."

Daryl frowned and tried to remember. He supposed he hadn't talked to Bob since he gave Rick the contract. Christ, it felt like it had been a year and an hour since that day. So much had changed in such a short time, and yet Daryl felt like he'd been down here for years, been with _Rick_ for years.

"So I take it bossman didn't throw you out on your ass?"

Daryl shook his head. "We talked about it, and he forgave me. Actually helped me get out of the…problem. We're on good terms and still together."

"That's great news," Bob said with a wide smile. "I was sendin' good vibes into the world for everything to work out."

Daryl laughed, raising an eyebrow. "You believe in that kinda shit?"

"I believe there's a time and a place for everything. You just have to keep a look out for the signs."

"Hmm, and is there gonna be a sign comin' any time soon of you movin' in with your lady?" Daryl asked, teasing.

Bob smirked. " _Actually_ , I asked her to live with me last week. She said no 'cause she's a smart lady, but I'll wear her down." Daryl laughed. This had to be the first time he'd spoken to Bob and not wanted a cigarette. The pack was still in his jacket pocket but he felt like he was in a good enough place to try quitting again. If Rick was able to bear with him through the nicotine withdrawal.

"Things are lookin' up for the both of us, looks like," Daryl said.

"That it does, my friend."

Daryl smiled and bid Bob a good night, before he got back on his bike and started to head home. He got a call from Glenn on the way and pulled over to answer and stick his headphones in, pocketing his phone as he pulled back into traffic.

"Hey man, what's up?"

"Maggie and I found a place in the city," Glenn announced. "We're moving in next weekend and I could use someone who actually has upper body strength."

Daryl laughed. "I can probably get three other helpers, if you're up for that," he said, thinking of Rick, Shane, and possibly Carl could help out too.

"That'd be awesome!" Glenn said. He sounded positively giddy with excitement.

"Rick and I signed the contract today," Daryl continued. "We're pretty much free of Negan now. At least, all the shitty parts of the dumbass stunt I pulled."

"Oh, that reminds me, Carol told me you'd better call her before she drives down here and wrings your neck."

Daryl laughed. "Yeah, shit, I should call her."

"Damn right, man. Woman scares the crap outta me," Glenn joked, making Daryl laugh again. He was almost at Rick's house and felt serene and excited as he pulled into Rick's suburb. "I gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow!"

"See you," Daryl replied, and the call went dead as he pulled into the driveway next to Rick's car. He got off the bike and put it on the kickstand, and pulled his headphones free of his pocket so he could wrap them up and stick them in his jacket. Then he went inside. The smell of leftover pizza greeted him and he gave a contented hum, finding Rick in the kitchen.

He waited until Rick saw him out of the corner of his eye before he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Rick from behind, kissing his neck.

Rick smiled and let out a low hum, turning his head so Daryl could kiss his cheek. _Where did you go?_ Rick signed.

 _The hotel,_ Daryl replied, using his hands in front of Rick instead of moving. _Made friends with the door guy there, wanted to say 'hi'._

Rick hummed again and turned in Daryl's arms, his hands cupping Daryl's jaw gently and pulling him in for a kiss. Daryl met him eagerly, pulling Rick close. Rick had shed his work clothes and was still wearing the slacks, but a t-shirt instead, untucked. His warmth pressed nicely against Daryl's chest as Rick tilted his head to one side and deepened the kiss.

Daryl pulled back with a gasp when his lungs started to burn, and rested their foreheads together instead. Rick's eyes were hooded and bright, his smile soft. His lips were already pinked from Daryl's mouth and Daryl couldn't resist kissing him again.

 _I wanna fuck you_ , Daryl signed when they broke apart.

Rick smiled, biting his lower lip. _It's just the microwave,_ he said. _It'll stop._

 _Good_. Daryl grabbed Rick's hands. "Come with me."

He led Rick upstairs and into Rick's bedroom, shutting the door behind them. He shoved Rick against it, kissing him roughly as his greedy hands went to Rick's belt, pulling it open and then off and throwing it to one side.

He slid to his knees and Rick's eyes went wide, his chest heaving as Daryl unfastened and unzipped his slacks, pulling them aside so he could pull Rick's cock out of his underwear. Daryl sucked in a deep breath and opened his mouth, letting Rick's cock sink between his lips as Rick started to harden in his hand.

" _Fuck_ ," Rick growled, putting a hand in Daryl's hair and tilting his head back towards the ceiling. His hand slid down Daryl's cheek and he brushed his fingers along Daryl's throat as Daryl let him sink in deeper, until he hit the back of Daryl's throat and he could feel the way Daryl's neck flexed as he gagged. Rick sucked in a harsh breath and put his other hand on Daryl's head, fingers knotting tight in his hair as Daryl tilted his head and tried to take Rick deeper.

Rick let out a shuddery growl, his teeth gritted and jaw clenched. He looked fucking gorgeous, like a wild animal Daryl had chained and bound for his own use. "Daryl," he groaned, when Daryl pulled back and sucked on the head of his cock as hard as he could, before letting his mouth go lax and Rick pushed into his mouth, forcing him to take as much as he could before pulling back. Rick built up a slow rhythm, and Daryl put his hands on Rick's thighs so Rick could feel if Daryl wanted him to push back. He took Rick into his mouth again, his jaw starting to hurt from the pressure he was forcing his mouth to put on Rick's cock.

" _Daryl_ ," Rick gasped, and this time it was plaintive and needy. Daryl pulled off and let Rick haul him to his feet, kissing him desperately and rutting his cock against Daryl's shirt. "Fuck me."

Daryl growled. He loved hearing Rick's voice like that, all low and growly. "Get naked and get on the bed," he ordered, and Rick nodded and hurried to obey. Daryl unbuttoned his shirt and pulled his belt free, undressing more slowly than Rick but not to the point where it felt like torture. By the time Daryl had gotten undressed and found the lube bottle, Rick was naked and waiting for him on the bed.

He prowled over Rick and settled between his thighs, putting the lube bottle down by Rick's side. He slid his hands up Rick's heaving, pinked chest, marveling at the feel of Rick's smooth skin underneath his gentle touch.

"You're so fuckin' pretty," Daryl murmured, and Rick bit his lower lip, cheeks darkening from the smudge of arousal that had been there already. "First time I saw you, it was like my brain just fuckin' stuttered. I didn't even know you, you were just a pain in my ass that refused to talk to me on the phone, but then I met you and it just…changed."

Rick let out a quiet noise, almost like a whine. He sat up and put his hands in Daryl's hair, pulling him in for a kiss.

Daryl let him, before he growled and pushed Rick sharply in the chest, sending him onto his back again. Rick gasped, his eyes flashing and black flying out to consume the whole iris at the treatment. Daryl smirked and crawled over him, his hands finding Rick's wrists and pinning them next to his head as he kissing Rick until he was breathless.

"Keep 'em here," he said, making sure Rick could see. "If I see 'em move, I'll assume you wanna stop."

Rick bit his lower lip and nodded, and reached up to wrap his fingers around the headboard so that he could be still. Daryl let out an explosive breath and kissed Rick's mouth, his jaw, nuzzled his bared, sweaty throat.

"Daryl," Rick moaned, spreading his legs and dragging them up so his thighs framed Daryl's hips, his heels digging into the backs of Daryl's thighs. Daryl growled, shuddering at the way Rick was moving, at just how badly he wanted Daryl, and he reached down and wrapped a hand around both of their bare cocks, forcing them together in the tight circle of his hand.

"You want me to fuck you?" Daryl asked, and didn't even recognize his voice with how low and fucked-out it sounded. "Or you want me to get you off with my mouth?"

Rick swallowed audibly. "Fuck me," he demanded, his thighs going tight around Daryl for a moment. "Want you to come in me."

"Fuck," Daryl growled, and leaned down for another harsh kiss. He let go of their cocks and grabbed the lube bottle, opening it and squirting some on his fingers.

He sank his first finger into Rick quickly, too desperate to go slow. Rick didn't seem to mind, though – he arched up to take it as deep as he could, gasping loudly, his fingers going tight around the headboard. Daryl curled his finger and fucked Rick with it, trying to get him stretched out as fast as he could.

"Daryl, please," Rick moaned. "Another."

Daryl bit his lip and obeyed, forcing in a second finger along with the first. Rick's thighs were shaking, his cock leaking out onto his stomach, his arms straining with the effort to hold onto the headboard and not move as Daryl had demanded. It occurred to Daryl that without Rick being able to move his hands, he was being forced to speak out loud. Which meant Daryl got to hear Rick's voice way more than normal. He reached down with his free hand to stroke his cock, biting his lower lip hard as Rick's body jerked and he let out another plaintive sound.

Daryl's fingers brushed over Rick's prostate again, noting with a pleased smirk how Rick's chest tightened and his cock switched against his tense stomach. Rick whimpered and lifted his head. "Daryl," he growled, and it sounded like he was begging. "M'gonna -."

"Yeah?" Daryl smirked and let go of his cock to wrap his fingers tightly around the base of Rick's. It wouldn't stop him coming but it was enough to pull him back a little. Rick moaned and his head dropped back for a brief second. "Beg me to make you come."

Rick whined, baring his teeth as Daryl stroked over his prostate again. He let his head fall back and gasped towards the ceiling, the red flush spreading down his chest. "F- _fuck_ ," he stuttered, arching up into Daryl's touches. Daryl squeezed his fingers around the base of Rick's cock and let them slide over his balls, massaging them gently.

"God, Daryl, please," Rick rasped, his voice so low and fuckin' _sexy_ , it sent a shiver down Daryl's spine. "Please, _please,_ let me come. Feels so good when you touch me, wanna come for you. _Please_."

"Fuck," Daryl whispered, and reached back up to wrap his hand around Rick's cock, stroking tightly and twisting his wrist whenever he reached the head. He pushed his fingers deep into Rick and rubbed over his prostate, breathing heavily as Rick trembled again and his stomach sank in with a harsh breath.

Rick came with a loud moan, writhing against the bed as Daryl continued to touch him, milking each wave as Rick's cock spilled thick and hot over his hand. He let out a harsh breath, and leaned down to suck the head of Rick's cock back into his mouth. He pulled his fingers away, knowing from experience how much the sensitivity hurt right after an orgasm, and spread his dirty hands on Rick's thighs to stop them closing as he sucked at Rick's cock.

Rick whimpered, body trembling under Daryl's mouth. It was starting to hurt, Rick could tell, but he didn't tell Daryl to stop and he didn't put a hand in Daryl's hair. Daryl licked around the head, swallowing down whatever lingered there, and Rick let out an audible growl.

Daryl pulled off and kissed Rick again, feeding him his own come, and ran his hands up Rick's chest. "Roll over," he said, and Rick whimpered and obeyed, sliding his hands across the headboard and finding a new place to hold once he was on his stomach. Daryl growled, straddling Rick's thighs, and grabbed his cock. He pushed the head against Rick's hole and Rick went tense, whining softly, but let him inside.

"Fuck," Daryl growled, biting down on Rick's shoulder. Rick went tense, rolling his hips to try and get Daryl deeper, and let out a low sound like it had been punched out of him. Daryl's hands flattened on Rick's shoulders and he started to move, too close to go slow and try and work Rick up to a second orgasm.

He came with his teeth at Rick's neck, one hand tugging on his hair and the other fisted in the sheets. He fucked deep, grunting as Rick clenched up around him, tight ass greedy and hot around Daryl's cock as he finished.

He pulled out and sighed, wiping his hands on the sheet, and then pulled Rick back over and kissed him.

Rick's eyes almost glowed in the low light and he tugged Daryl down for another kiss, and then another, until they were too lax and out of breath to keep going. The smell of the pizza had started to waft in front downstairs but Daryl couldn't bring himself to move.

Rick pet through his hair and then took a deep breath. He looked like he wanted to say something.

Daryl reached out and gently touched Rick's cheek. "Tell me," he said.

Rick bit his lower lip and pulled one hand away, before he pressed it to Daryl's chest. His first finger, pinky, and thumb were all extended. Daryl knew what the sign meant.

 _I know it's too soon_ , Rick signed quickly, after. _You don't have to say it back._

Daryl shook his head and kissed Rick, smoothing the worry from the corner of his mouth. He mimicked the gesture and pushed his hand against Rick's chest.

_I love you._

Rick smiled widely, like he was seeing in color for the first time. He pulled Daryl to him and kissed him deeply, putting his hands back in Daryl's hair. Daryl didn't know what the Board would decide, he didn't know if Blake would post bail, he didn't know if years down the line they would try and close the Negan accounts and face another legal battle.

What he did know was that Rick was here, with him, in their shared bed. Rick was his and Rick loved him. Daryl had a family now. He had been in Georgia for a while, but he finally felt like he had come _home_.

"I love you," Daryl said out loud. Rick bit his lower lip and closed his eyes.

"I love you, too."


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think the fact that I have no self control is pretty much a given at this point.
> 
> Let's just say work was irritating and Daryl would know what I'm feelin' better than anyone. Unfortunately I don't have a Rick for this, but fortunately, like Daryl, it's not really my problem anymore.
> 
> Shameless self indulgence. And I wrote it in like half an hour so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Enjoy!

Daryl had never been so relieved to see the lights of Rick's house, warm and welcoming on the end of the street, as he drove his bike to the driveway and parked it next to Rick's car. He took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair, hooking the strap over his arm as he dug out his keys and walked up the steps to the front door.

Rick turned his head, seeing the door open in the reflection of the television, and greeted him with a warm smile. "Hey," he signed, and Daryl smiled back, feeling the weight and the pressing headache that was building up behind his eyes ease a bit as he stepped inside and closed and locked the door behind him.

"Hey," he said, stepping to the back of the couch and leaning down to press a kiss to Rick's forehead, one hand petting through his hair once. "I'm gonna go change."

Rick nodded, turning his attention back to the screen as Daryl went upstairs and to their bedroom. He shed his work clothes quickly and changed into sweats and a comfortable, loose-fitting t-shirt.

The bed beckoned him and he wanted to just flop down and nap, but Rick was downstairs and the promise of his boyfriend was a lot more enticing. With a sigh, he scratched his hands through his hair and padded back downstairs, flopping with a heavy sigh on the unoccupied side of the couch.

Rick regarded him, his sharp eyes taking in Daryl. "You look tense," he signed.

Daryl nodded, wiping a hand over his face. "I never thought I'd say it, but thank God for Dwight."

"Dwight?" Rick answered, one eyebrow raised. "Negan's guy?"

Daryl nodded. Over the year and a half he'd been living with Rick, he'd gotten a lot better at signing, to the point where he'd consider himself pretty fluent. He really, really liked the silence with Rick. It reminded him of being outside in the wild when he was younger. He could hear the high whine of the television when it was on. He could hear the buzz of lights when they turned on and off. He could hear traffic outside. But inside Rick's house it was blissfully silent, and his headache felt much more manageable when he was sitting in comfortable quiet with his lover.

"They're releasing a single sign-on platform," he signed. "Dwight gave me login credentials for the staging area so that I could look at it and mess around and get a feel for it." He shook his head. "It's a clusterfuck," he said aloud, since he didn't know the sign for it.

Rick huffed a laugh. "Good thing you don't have to deal with that anymore."

"And that no one I care about is still working support," Daryl agreed, going back to signing. "But it's not going to go over well, I can tell you that for free."

Rick regarded him for another moment, before he made a noise to catch Daryl's attention, and spread his knees apart, tapping the space on the couch between them. "Sit," he said, out loud, when Daryl looked at him.

Daryl cocked his head to one side, but pushed himself to his feet, earning a smile from Rick. He sat down between Rick's legs, on the floor, and let out a pleased, soft moan when Rick started petting through his hair, his large, warm hands cupping Daryl's neck and rubbing at the tense muscles there.

Rick's fingers spread out warmly on his shoulders, his thumbs digging in harshly to the big knots Daryl knew had been forming at his back and neck from glaring at his computer all day. Daryl groaned, tilting his head back to rest on Rick's thigh.

"Do you know when it's going out?" Rick asked out loud so that he didn't have to move his hands. Over their time together Rick had gotten more confident speaking out loud to Daryl, or when it was just Daryl and Michonne in the room. Daryl loved hearing him talk – it was like some secret, precious thing he knew he was one of the few people allowed to have. Even as Rick talked more often, each word felt like a victory, a word of praise that soothed him and made him feel warm in his chest.

Daryl shook his head, groaning when Rick's thumbs stroked up the back of his neck, forcing his head forward again. He reached back to guide Rick's hand to his shoulders again and Rick huffed but obeyed, smoothing his fingers around Daryl's shoulders and pressing down harshly to work the knots into submission.

"We'll write to our merchants to let them know," Rick said. "The ones still with Negan."

Daryl nodded. Truthfully, he knew it wasn't his problem anymore. The accounts still with Negan would have to deal with it but he was with Rick in corporate now, and it wouldn't get up to them for them to have to deal with. If Daryl needed to investigate a particular batch, he could pass it off down the line so that he didn't have to see that monstrosity.

Rick shifted his weight, sliding forward on the couch so that he could rub his hands down Daryl's chest and hold him in a loose embrace from behind. He kissed Daryl's red neck, making Daryl shiver. "We can go upstairs and I can give you a proper backrub, if you want."

Daryl smiled. "You should have done this in another life," he signed. Rick laughed and kissed his neck again, before he pulled back. He tapped Daryl's shoulder and Daryl got up, turning and holding out a hand to Rick to help him to his feet. Rick turned off the television and took Daryl by the hair, kissing him deeply.

"I missed you," he signed when they pulled apart.

Daryl smiled. It had been less than half a day since they'd seen each other – Rick had a lunch meeting and had come straight home after, letting Daryl know he wouldn't be back at the office. Daryl didn't like cutting out early, even when there was literally nothing he had to be at the office to do.

"Missed you, too," he signed back, and Rick's smile was soft and warm. He kissed Daryl again, as passionately as he always had. Time and proximity hadn't put a dent in how Daryl felt whenever Rick touched him.

Rick took his hand and led him upstairs, nodding to the bed. Daryl pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground, before he climbed into the middle of the bed and laid down on his stomach. Less than a minute later Rick was there, straddling his thighs, his warm weight settling neatly on Daryl's legs as he got into a comfortable position.

Rick pressed his hands flat to Daryl's spine and pushed up. Daryl sighed, relaxing into the mattress, and put his hands under his head so he could pillow them there and watch Rick out of the corner of his eye. Rick's fingers felt nothing short of magical, like he had a roadmap to each one of the kinks and knots in Daryl's back. He went slowly, taking care and making sure he got out every knot he found, until Daryl was lax and loose, breathing hard and biting his lip to stifle the moans he wanted to let out as Rick touched him.

"You're so fuckin' good at this," Daryl sighed, closing his eyes when Rick dug his thumbs into Daryl's lower back, smoothing his palms along the sensitive skin there and dragging out. Daryl's spine cracked and he groaned, stretching out under Rick.

Rick laughed, a gentle huff of breath, and leaned down to kiss Daryl's shoulder in thanks. "I like touching you," he said.

"You can touch whatever you want," Daryl replied, smiling.

Rick hummed, his hands sliding down until they reached the hem of Daryl's sweatpants, and Daryl lifted his hips as best he could so that Rick could hook his fingers in them and slide them down, baring his ass and the tops of his thighs until Rick's body got in the way. He spread his hands out wide on Daryl's ass, pulling him apart, and brushed his thumb over Daryl's hole.

Daryl's breath hitched and he groaned, arching in encouragement, and slid his hands up to rest against the headboard.

Rick leaned down and kissed him again. "Roll over," he said, and climbed off the bed as Daryl obeyed, stretching out on his back as Rick grabbed the lube from the bedside table and set it down by Daryl's thigh. He grabbed Daryl's sweatpants and tugged them off, before he shed his own clothes and knelt between Daryl's legs.

He prowled over Daryl and wrapped a hand in his hair, tugging him up for a kiss which Daryl eagerly answered. He put his hands on Rick's shoulders and wrapped his legs loosely around Rick's waist, arching up so that their bodies ground together, teasing at the friction he knew Rick would give him soon.

Rick pulled back, his cheeks pink, eyes bright, and smiled. He reached for the lube bottle and opened it, squeezing some onto his fingers. Daryl sucked in a breath, wrapped a hand loosely around his cock and spreading his legs to make room for Rick.

Rick teased one finger against his hole and Daryl nodded, eyelids fluttering closed as Rick started pushing into him. His heartbeat was pounding in his head, cock filling quickly as Rick's other hand stroked down his thigh, holding him still as Rick pressed deep and curled his finger up.

" _Fuck_ ," Daryl gasped, tightening his hand on the head of his cock as Rick stretched him out. Rick smirked, leaning down to kiss at Daryl's red chest. He opened his mouth and started to suck a dark mark on Daryl's chest and Daryl moaned, fisting his hand in Rick's hair and tugging as Rick bared his teeth and bit down around the tender flesh.

He pushed in a second finger and Daryl moaned, his thighs twitching around Rick's waist as Rick found his prostate and started to rub against it in earnest. Daryl gasped, a whine stuck in his throat as his cock twitched in his hand and he tightened his hand on the head, stroking more quickly in time with Rick's fingers.

He tugged on Rick's hair and Rick lifted his gaze, letting go of Daryl's tender flesh. He let go of Daryl's thigh and put his hand by Daryl's head, leaning down to kiss him again. His fingers pressed in deep, lighting up that sensitive spot again and earning another wrecked groan from Daryl's throat.

"Fuck me," Daryl demanded, signing the words because he knew Rick liked watching him do it. Rick's eyes flashed and he grinned, baring his teeth.

He pulled his fingers out and spread more lube on his cock, then covered Daryl as he forced his cock in. Daryl's body accepted him eagerly and he moaned, kissing Rick fiercely as Rick bottomed out inside him. He dug his nails into Rick's back, urging him closer.

Rick built up a rhythm quickly, chasing the heat of Daryl's body like he had spent the entire day thinking about it. Maybe he had – it was flattering as Hell, knowing how much Rick thought about him and craved him at any given moment. It was definitely a mutual feeling – still, Rick managed to drive him to distraction simply by being in the room with him.

Rick let out a low growl, kissing him breathless like he was trying to steal the air from Daryl's lungs. And Daryl gave eagerly, raking his nails up Rick's back to leave thin red lines. Rick moaned, low and rough against his lips.

The bed creaked with their movements, the only noise aside from their heavy breathing and the rough, slick sounds of bodies colliding. Daryl whined, desperately chasing the way Rick fucked into him, hard and brutal, and then his cock found Daryl's prostate and Daryl's breath left him in a heavy moan.

"You like that?" Rick asked, like he needed to. Like he hadn't learned how to play Daryl like his favorite instrument, and he was a master of it. Like every time they touched, Daryl's soul and body didn't light up with a craving unlike anything he'd felt before.

He fucked in again and Daryl shivered, biting his lower lip, hand wrapping in Rick's hair and tugging tightly. "Please," he gasped, arching up so that his cock rubbed tightly against Rick's stomach. Rick growled, nuzzling Daryl's head to one side to leave a dark mark on his neck to match the ones littered in various stages of darkness already there.

Rick reared back, his hands landing tight on Daryl's hips as he fucked deep. "Gonna come," he growled, and Daryl's breath hitched, one hand flying to his cock and stroking tightly as Rick shoved deep and went still. There was sweat on his forehead and darkening his hair, making it curl. His face went tight and his shoulders curled as he came with a low growl, spilling in Daryl's tight ass.

Daryl moaned, rolling his hips to chase the feeling of Rick inside of him. Rick hissed, pulling out, and slid back so that he could lean down over Daryl's cock. He pushed Daryl's hand away and wrapped his lips tightly around the head of his cock, sucking hard and taking Daryl deep into his throat.

"F- _fuck_ ," Daryl whispered, both hands tight in Rick's hair as he fucked up. His thighs hurt from Rick's grip, his chest heaved, muscles in his body straining to chase the tightness of Rick's mouth around him. Rick slid his fingers back inside Daryl, curling them up, and that was it. Daryl's orgasm rushed out of him like a tide, and he trembled and moaned as Rick swallowed him down, his fingers curling and stroking inside Daryl as he came.

He pulled off when Daryl was too sensitive to touch, and smiled, wiping a hand across his mouth. He covered Daryl and kissed him deeply, tongue sliding in so Daryl could taste himself in Rick's mouth.

Daryl gasped when he pulled away, unable to stop the dopey smile on his face as Rick settled into place beside him. He chased Rick's mouth, claiming another kiss from him that made Rick hum.

"Feel better?" Rick signed, his grin smug.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Yeah, asshole," he replied, his fingers making the signs easily. Rick huffed a laugh and wrapped his arms around Daryl, pulling him close. "Wear you out already?"

"I'm sure I could go for round two in a few minutes," Rick whispered, his lips against Daryl's forehead. "With the right incentive."

Daryl smirked. "I'm fuckin' you next time."

"Naturally."

Daryl sighed, settling his head on Rick's chest so he could listen to Rick's heartbeat. It was quiet, like the rest of him, but soothed Daryl more than any massage or good fuck could. Another novel thing about being with Rick – Daryl liked just being around him, his presence was comforting and strong and made Daryl feel like he could do anything.

Rick pet through his hair absently, his body lax against the bed, and Daryl tugged on the end of the sheets to wrap it around them in a loose burrito. Rick turned onto his side, hugging Daryl close, and Daryl sighed and closed his eyes.


End file.
